
Book W^lH l 



XH5^i 




1^ 



WENSLEYDALE 

'■lite,,- ' 

M URAL CONTEMPLA TIONS: 

a Poem* 

BY T. MAUDE, ESQ. 



How blest is he who crowns in shades like these, 
A youth of labour with an' age of ease; 
w Sinks to the grave \vi^h unperceiv'd decay, 

While resignation gently slopes the way. 

Goldsmith. 



FOURTH EDITION. 



mCHMOND: 

Printed hy and for T. Bowman ; 

SOLD ASLO BY I.OUGMAN, HURST, REES, RMF, AND BUOWN, 
LONDON, AND T. FALL, L l.YBURX. 

18 16. 



5^^A 



'0?. 



i 



A D VER TISEMENT. 

A period of forty years having elapsed since 
the last edition of the much admired poem of 
" JVensleydale " was published, the Editor has 
been induced to lay it again before the Public. 
The Notes will be found, considerably enlarged, 
both by the addition of further original matter, 
and of extracts from authors, who have offered a 
further illustration of the several subjects. 
His most grateful thanks are due to the Gentle- 
men who have assisted him, and to the numerous 
Subscribers for their kind support. 



HER GRACE THE 

DUCHESS OF BOLTON. 

Madam, 

In offering your Grace the humble 
tribute of these pages, I do but render 
a right to which you stand entitled 
from many considerations. 

Your own happy success in the art 
of delineation, your alliance with the 
most noble Owner of the ample Ter- 
ritories, whose unremitted friendship 
I have now had the honour to expe- 
rience for forty years, are not the only 
motives to this address. 

Surrounded as I am in the centre 
of the scenes de cribed, I could not 
be a mute spectator, when the objects 
so irresistibly invited my attention. 

To vour ffrace, who needs no inter- 
preter of rural nature, I should have 

A 2 



Vt DEDICATION. 

stood less excused, had not a Chanty* 
which I wish to serve, and for whose 
en^oluiiient these attempts are iiow^ 
riscjiied ahroad, induced me to employ 
in this manner a few^ hours of leisure 
from mv more essential eno^aoements. 

l.'our Grace's Candor, united with 
that of the puhlic, will, I hope, advert 
more to the end than to the literary 
merits of this publication, since I am 
conscious that so trifling an insect, 
short as its natural duration woul(f 
be, must prematurely fall, if the mercy 
of Criticism, and the fosterino- wing; 
of Charity, do not protect it. 

Stoical indeed must be the heart 
that glows not at the view of an insti- 
tution so replete with present and 
consequential good, by which disa- 
bled Industry is restored, pining Po^ 
verty made joyful. Anguish assuaged, 
and even Life preserved. Humanity 
must therefore fervently wish, that 
the fund of this very important Cha- 

* The last edition of this work was published for tlie benefit 
of the General Infirmary at Leeds. 



% 



DEDICATION. vii 

ritj, in one of the most considerable 
tradino- towns in the kino-dom, mav be 
always equal to its liberal plan, formed 
on the trulv beneficent and extensive 

ml 

scale of relieving neighbour, sojour- 
ner, and the most distant stranger, 
without distinction. 

Thrice happy then will be the au- 
thor, if by throwing in his mite, it 
should tend to alleviate the greatest 
of all afflictions, the complicated ca- 
lamities of indigence and sickness. 
A plan which cannot but coincide 
with the softest feelings of youy sex, 
and be in particular congenial to your 
Grace's sentiments, extended to every 
species of distress. 

I am. 

Madam, 

Your Grace's most obedient, 
And truly devoted Servant, 

Rdlton Hall, 
May 20, 1780. 

THOMAS MAUDE. 



INTRODUCTION. 



As many allusions in the following piece are 
merely local, it may be necessary to premise, that 
the principal scene is a seat belonging to the Duke 
of Bolton,* in Wensleydale, ten miles from Rich- 
mond, and four from Middleham, in Yorkshire, 
where his Grace possesses property as consider- 
able, as it is nobly ornamental to the country. 
For besides a range of ten almost united manors, 
including many populous villages, and a once 
splendid castle, wliose venerable remains even 
now greatly enrich the pleasing landscape, his 
Lordship lias a capital mansion, three miles distant 
from Bolton Castle, whence the title is derived, and 

* This the sixth and last Duke of Bolton, died in 1704, and 
was succeeded by Thomas Orde, who was created Baron Bolton 
Oct. 20th, 1797, and on the death of the Duke, by his Majesty's 
permission, assumed the name and arms of Powlett: he died in 
July, 1807, and was succeeded by his son, William, the 
present Lord Bolton. 

The family of Orde is of very great antiquity, and has 
long been possessed of considerable landed estates in Nortli- 

umberlaad and Durham. Ed. 

£ 



X INTRODUCTION. 

one mile from Wensley, from which village the 
Dale receives its name. A spot no less conspi- 
cuous for many bold, singular, and grotesque 
beauties of nature, than by the lineaments of a 
more polished aspect. The commodities of the 
valley for home and foreign consumption, which 
last is not inconsiderable, are fat cattle, horses, 
wool, butter, cheese, mittens, knit stockings, 
calamine, and lead. 

The house was finished about the year 1678, 
by Charles, Marquis of Winchester, afterwards 
created Duke of Bolton, and son of John the 
fifth Marquis, whose valour and loyalty, at an 
advanced age, were so remarkably displayed in 
the brave and long defence of his castle at Basing 
in Hampshire, (now erased,) during the civil war 
in the last century. A defence wl)ich has been 
celebrated by a variety of historians, for many 
peculiar circumstances attending it, relative both 
to the prowess of the besieged, in which the 
Marchioness was remarkably concerned, and the 
treasure seized by Cromwell, at the capture of 
the place. 

His Grace died the 27th of February, 1698, 
aged 69, at Amport, near Andover in Hampshire; 
and was interred at Basing, the burying-place of 
the family, leaving many noble proofs of liberality 
to his servants, and perpetuities to the poor. 



IXTRODUCTIoy. xi 

In regard to the following composition, the 
reader will perceive that I have engrafted upon 
the naked stock of rural description some miscel- 
laneous and exotic shoots, to vary that uniformity, 
which must be the necessary result of pastoral 
■writing. For however various and charming 
creation may be in her amazing productions, yet 
yet it must be confessed that in this walk of poetry, 
a few conceptions may cover or include a great 
extent of country. Pastoral poetry is a genus, 
where the respective species have been well 
defined from remote antiquity ; an amusiitg field 
of flowers, but reaped by a long succession of the 
most judicious hands. 

The leading objects of inanimate nature, such 
as woods, water, rocks, mountains, and plains, 
are found in part common to all countries ; and 
few have features so peculiarly striking and dis- 
similar, as to mark them for any great length of 
description, without fi\lling into a resemblance of 
thought with other writers, or running into dis- 
tinctions without a difference. It is the arrange- 
ment and combination of the preceding images, 
with an intermixture of the humbler orders of 
vegetation, that constitute the whole of rural 
scenery ; while the mode and manners of moving 
life may be called the business. Ilenee it will 
necessarily follow, that much of what may be said 
of Windsor Forest, of Arno's Banks, orofWen- 
sley Dale, may be applied to many other places 
B 2 



xii INTRODUCTION. 

with equal success. From this consideration, in 
order to form a diversity, possibly arose that 
indulgence, we may say that literary warrant, in 
favour of digressions, not tedious or absurd, in 
poetry on rural subjects. And if tlie case be so in 
respect to a whole country, how much more cogent 
must the argument appear when restricted to the 
bounds of a province, a vale, or a farm ? All that 
can be well expected in this matter, is, the avoid- 
ing of servile imitation, insipidity, or disgusting 
redundancy. The portrait of a flowery mead, how- 
ever beautifvd and elegant, must have its similitude 
elsewhere. The sports of the field, and the diver- 
sions of the village, carry with them also a like 
application. It will therefore, I trust, be some 
apology, if I have but drawn my piece sufficiently 
characteristic of the spot, without pretending to 
minute accuracy, close description, or absolute 
novelty. 

In the display of rural felicity, the passions 
often contribute to mislead. If we bring the 
innocence, knowledge, or happiness of the peasan- 
try to the measuring line of truth, we shall but 
too frequently find that they differ little from 
depravity, ignorance, and wretchedness ; at least 
some qualities contrary to what the poets usually 
draw, too often mingle themselves in the pompous- 
ly figured scene. 

There was an age, say some of respectable fame, 
when princes were s>hepherds, and shepherds bards; 



INTRODUCTION. xiii 

when a personal attendance on their flocl\S did not 
debase the dignity of rank; and rural employments, 
ahnost the sole occupation of the workl, unoppo- 
sed by sciences or mechanic arts, flourished in un- 
disturbed peace. But caprice or fasliion has shif- 
ted the scene; and would you behold the shepherd 
and the patriarch nearest the ori:^inal, you must 
revert to where the inroads of vice and luxury have 
made the least impressions. Such perhaps are 
the solitary and less rehned regions of Horeb, or 
the plains of the Tigris, where the pastoral chief 
in his tent, or from his grassy throne under the 
shade of the palm tree, gives orders to migrating 
hordes ; where milk and honey, dates, rice, and 
other vegetable fare, constitute his daily food, 
springs his beverage, and unadorned drapery his 
garments; where placid leisure, cloudless skies, 
and the soliciting objects of his situation, stir up 
genius to sentiment and poesy, in the true cha- 
racter of ancient simplicity. 

It is highly probable that man in the early state 
of the world, could not be silent amidst the sur- 
rounding charms of the creation. The view of 
nature in the firmament and on this globe, with 
the survey of his own frame, the melody of birds, 
and the adventures of the chase, would unavoidably 
operate to the production of strains beyond the 
standard of common ideas. And, agreeable to 
these sentiments, we have been told, above three 
thousand three hundred years ago, in all the rapture 



siv INTRODUCTION. 

and sublimity of sacred eloquence, that " the 
morning stars sang together, and all the sons of 
the Deity shouted for joy. " Hence may be de- 
duced the antiquity of this pleasing art, hence also 
may we infer its primogeniture, while modern 
travellers relate its prevalence, even to be traced 
among savages the most rude and retired. 

But whether love or war, devotion, the beauties 
of nature, or the pleasures of rural life, were the 
first incitements to poetry, is a question not easy to 
resolve. Yet be the decisions of criticism upon 
these points as they may, it is perhaps less a doubt, 
that the happiness with which our poets have trans- 
fused the beauties of imagery and sentiment from 
the ancients into their own productions, with their 
native originality, render them equal to those of all 
other countries and preceding times. Let us add, 
that the almost perpetual verdure with which 
our island is clothed, the variety of its features, and 
the brilliancy of its fair, recommend it above all 
other places as a subject for the truly pastoral 
description. 

The discriminating changes of the year, the 
attractive beauty of our sloping woodlands, oui* 
general attention to useful and ornamental cul- 
ture, the equal tonsure of the fields, and the 
various evolutions of a mixed and pleasing industry 
in hay harvest, with the plenty of crowning autumn, 
raise our conceptions of the seasons to that 



INTRODUCTIOJf. xv 

acknowledged degree of pre-eminence, which few 
other countries attain. For so peculiarly happy is 
the insular situation of Britain, that the like tem- 
perature is not to be found in the same latitudes 
under diiferent meridians : our suns, though often 
glowing, have duly their remitted heat ; our colds, 
their attempered qualities ; the clouds seasonably 
drop fatness, and our soil is in general grateful. 
Nor will it be denied, if experience is to determine, 
however appearances may at first plead, that 
Britain affords more hours for labour and exercise 
without doors to the healthy and robust, in the 
course of the year, than even the boasted climate 
of Italy, so much exposed to tlie extremes of heat 
and rain. 

The fossil kingdom, though a curious branch 
of natural history, rarely comes within the poet's 
sphere. To describe or analyse the qualities of its 
materials, is a task which belongs rather to the 
gravity of philosophical research, than to the muse. 
Such a survey answers not her purpose, nor suits 
the fancy of her dress; neither does she stoop for the 
" irritamenta maloriiin, " as Ovid expresses it. 
Scarcely can cither the gem or the ore attract her 
notice; for where are the miser and the poet 
imitedly found ? 

But though imagination dips not her pencil much 
in the colours of this department, yet true it is, that 
bodies pregnant with the most wonderful properties, 



xvi INTRODUCTION. 

andof tlieutmost utility, are furnished from the sub- 
terraneous world. Not to dwell upon iron, whose 
qualities are universally known, we shall only 
specify the magnet, the inscrutable agency of 
which in a manner supplies the absence of the 
starry host, informs the mariner in the deepest 
darkness whence the wind cometh, directing" him 
to steer through trackless and turbulent seas to his 
destined port. Hence our geographical and 
other discoveries, hence the glories of commerce, 
and the social intercourse of widely scattered 
nations. 

The simple consideration of vegetable nature, 
gratifies without alloy. We discipline the soil, 
and cultivate the beauties and necessaries of that 
kingdom to all our purposes, and are happy in the 
enjoyment of our labours, I had almost said in the 
works of our own creation. The objects rise in 
glory and set in gratitude ; they delight the senses, 
they deceive not when duly attended to, and in 
some degree reward the nurturing hand of all who 
properly extend it. 

Tx) this class we owe much of our bodily defence, 
with various luxuries of attire, the staff" of Jife, and 
the rarest elegancies of our board. In a single 
instance let us behold the progress but of one 
plant, common in its growth, important in its 
application. The flax robes us in the whiteness 
of snow, it comfortably spreads our tables and 



INTRODUCTION. xvil 

our couch, keeps clean our bodies, affords us 
paper whereon to express our thoughts, and 
wings to waft them to the remotest quarters of the 
globe. 

From still life we advance to the animal rank : 
we here launch into a world of superior wonder, 
and stand astonished at that wise oeconomy, Avhich 
so evidently displays itself throughout the vast ex- 
panse. It Avould be superfluous to enumerate all 
the pleasures and accomodations with which we are 
here presented: we trace with rapture their instinc- 
tive policies, have excercise and sports to recreate 
our minds and preserve our health, raiment to 
warm, and food to nourish our bodies; means to fa- 
cilitate agriculture, commerce, arts, and all the op- 
erations of life that require strength or dispatch. 
After all, it is perhaps the philosopher alone, in cir- 
cumstances of independence, that can pretend to re- 
lish the scenes of retirement in the full fruition of 
their charms. It is he who physically inspects the 
universe, which the poet only paints ; it is he who 
morally draws conclusions, " finds tongues in 
trees, sermons in stones, and good in every thing,'* 

" On every thorn, delightful wisdom grows; 
" In every rill, some sweet instruction flows. " 

The man oppressed with penury, the mind 
distracted by fear, by envy, by political or other 
fashionable pursuits, absorbed in ignorance or 



xviii INTRODUCTION. 

dissolved in slo(l), perplexed Avith suits at law, 
or corroded by misl'orluKes, has little chance to 
succeed in the calm speculations of rural life. 
The language he understands will not be that of 
nature around him, at least in great any degree of 
purity. Unwedded to resignation, unattuned to 
harmony and providence, he will but casually float 
on the surface of pleasure, and grasp at phantoms 
for the substance. Too, too frequently, I fear, will 
care, discontent, and insensibility, preclude Imp- 
piness from the bosom of the husbandman. Nor 
is it likely that one, under the solicitude of answer- 
ing days of rent, or who is in want of funds to 
supply incidental deficiencies, more especially 
should murrain invade his stock, or floods his 
crops, should insects infest, or storms destroy, 
with other the black contingencies of knavery, 
error, or fate, can boast the contentment usually 
ascribed to his situation. Thus controlled by 
elements, and oftentimes by man, not less fierce 
than they, the farmer's obstacles to happiness 
will be various and multipl.ed. His hopes Avill, 
under these circumstances, become not only agi- 
tated by the breath and caprice of others, but 
he will be made, as Shakspeare says on an- 
cther occasion, " servile to all the skiey influ- 
ences. " He will be apt to brood even on imagin- 
ary fears, as necessity presses; and Avanting educa- 
tion to re])ell the enemy, or fill the languid pause 
of thought, Vi ill bring forth regret, sorrow, and 
despair. 



INTRODUCTION. xix 

But still it will be found that in description we 
have, agreeable to poetic licence, taken up with 
happiness in the humble cot, for numerous excep- 
tions are not wanting" to combat the doctrine 
we have before advanced: yet it is probable, 
that in these days of encpiiry, and improved man- 
agement of land, he whose abiUties and spirit 
prompt him to attempt, and who has judgement 
to direct, and feelings to enjoy, bids fairest for 
the prize. However it will be much, if even the 
more abstracted sons of wisdom and competency, 
to whom we have previously alluded, do not com- 
plain that the poets deceive. Certain it is, that 
in the happiest state, exclusive of adverse inci- 
dents, the lot of all men, some melting compassion 
for a tender and kind favourite, sick, dead, or as- 
signed to slaughter, will intrusively step in, to 
disturb tranquillity, and embitter remembrance. 

The horse or ewe, the patient ox, or the useful 
cow, these his lavoured objects, whose obedience 
and fidelity he had long admired, which his care 
had reared, and his bounty fed; these his familiars 
of the field, when led to be sacrificed, cannot but 
make the owner share emotions opposite to feUcity, 
which every inteUigent reader will forcibly con- 
ceive. There will stand before him that price of 
aflfection, th.it bargain to the effusion of blood, 
which, to a man of sensibility, must give some 
sympathetic grief. But let us in this case imitate 
the prudent painter of old, by drawing a veil over 
c 2 



xr INTRODUCTION. 

part of the piece, that silent conjecture may supply 
the want. 

Reality has required at our hands this pictiu*e, 
the brightest side of which we shall, in conform- 
ity to custom, exhibit nearest to the light; nor 
need we attempt to prove one obvious truth, that 
happiness will be found in proportion, as simpli- 
city and innocence, under the influence of educa- 
tion prevail. 

But it is time to close the preface, lest we 
reveal too much, and sink the subject which we 
mean should entertain; remembering that rural en- 
joyment in its perfection, is not perhaps to be 
sought in the palace, nor always in the cottage, but 
chiefly in that middle state of life which animates 
decency with taste, where judgement guides 
ceconomy, where hereditary or acquired property, 
with beneficence, commands respect and esteem, 
but excludes avarice, vanity, pride, and every 
more turbulent passion. 



WENSLEYDALE; 

OR, 

BURAL CONTEMPLATIONS, 



How blest is he who crowns in sh«deslike these, 
A youth of labour with an age of ease; 
Sinks to the grave with unperceivM decay. 
While resignation gently slopes the way. 

GoiSSMITB. 



*^^ 



WENSLEYDALE; 



RURAL CONTEMPLATIONS. 



Arise, my Muse, fair Wensley's vale display. 
And tune with vocal reed the sylvan lay; 
Thro' the gay scenes of lovely Bolton rove, 
Its peaceful plains, and each sequester'd grove; 
Enjoy the solitude, as gently glide 
The lapsing moments of life's wasting tide. 

V"" 

Here, far remov'd from vanity and throng, 
Each soft recess the genial fane of song, 
We view past toil, exotic scenes run o'er, 
And sheltered hear the rocking tempests roar. 
In waving shades poetic converse hold, 
And the mild charms of Nature's page unfold; 
While the lulled mind, soft rising with the morn, 
Nor knows, nor fears, ambition's chilling scorn; 



24 WENSLEYDALE. 

Delays of office and postponing arts, 
Or how the courtier's vow from truth departs; 
Each sly evasion nurs'd in falsehood's arms. 
Or how a quibble virtue's claim disarms ; 
Superior wrapt in contemplation's themes, 
Grateful we walk, and meekly shun extremes ; 
Resting on truth, as moral Pope exprest 
That maxim sure, " whatever is, is best. '* 

What tho' no pompous pile here rears its head^ 
No column proud with sculptur'd science spread. 
The face serene with which old Time appears, 
Boasts beauties growing with his growing yearsj, 
While Art contrasted, drops her feeble wingJsi, 
As lofty Nature, wildly awful, sings. 

But see yon margin of rejoicing woods, 
Which bending listen to the sprightly floods: 
Should these, or milder views, thy fancy seize. 
And pencill'd fields with mossy fountains please. 
Stray where the plumy matron with her train, 
Roves proudly devious on the liquid plain. 
Sweetly below whose gay reflected sides. 
The sportive dimpled stream meaud'ring glides ; 



WENSLEYDALE. ?5 

"Reluctant yielding tends to distant shores, 
And the dread wonders of the deep explores ; 
Now swells with commerce Britain's envied reign, 
Now bears her bulwarks o'er the subject main. 
Exhale ye suns, ye winds your wings expand, 
And timely fertilize a favour'd land : 
In gentle rains and balmy dews return 
The borrow'd treasures of the streaming umj 
On thirsty herds the freshen'd wave bestow. 
And bounteous bid dispersive plenty flow. 
So sails the merchant, Ophirs to pursue. 
And ling'ring bids domestic joys adieu ; 
While plaintive eyes the less'ning hills bewail, 
And anxious sighs his heaving breast assail ; 
Launched on the billows, now with adverse toil. 
He slowly gains the long expected soil ; 
From traffic's fount arise his views to roam, 
For decent wealth to grace his happy home. 
When gentle gales and pleasure's liigh command. 
Propitious waft him to his native strand. 

Nor absent are smooth culture's pleasing vales^ 
With groves adapted to fond lovers' tales ; 



26 WENSLEYDALE. 

Nor banks inviting, nor the rosy bower, 
Their blest retirement in the tender hour ; 
While from the spreading beech the conscious dove 
Invokes the happy pair to blameless love : 
The woods responsive melting music bear, 
And choral plaudits float along the air. 

Ah ! mark, ye blooming nymphs, alluring May, 
Nor let her charms your brighter charms betray. 
So spoke the sage, well vers'd in female hearts, 
Vers'd how the quiver'd boy directs his darts : 
So Rome's wise augur, Caesar's life to spare, 
Bade the great chief of fatal March beware; 
While he, regardless, arm'd with Stoic pride, 
Contemn'd the truth-presaging tale, and died. 

Say now, Philander, to which path inclin'd, 
Since beauties croud upon the dubious mind ; 
The Park umbrageous, wide extended lawn, 
The climbing vista, and the toyful fawn ; 
Yon blossom'd copse, the hawthorn's pearly spray, 
Whence the sweet thrilling thrush awakes the day; 



WENSLEYDALE. 2? 

The grateful woodbine dangling in the breeze, 
^naraell'd meads and stately quiv'ring trees; 
The bird with human laugh, the cawing rook. 
The sprightly squirrel, and the babbling brook ; 
The vocal cuckoo, and the brilliant jay, 
DeckM with the lustre of reflected day ; 
All, all combine to make the group complete, 
And give to Powlett nature's fairest seat. 



" 1 



But let us search the scene with nearer eyes. 
And range descriptive as new objects rise. 
Full then to sight from Spenithorne the gay, 
Alike the view from Harmby's sloping way, 
With aspect open to the rising ray. 
Stands high-plac'd Middl'hara, marked with 

martial scars. 
The fatal record of intestine wars ; 
A Neville's pile, where Cromwell's rage we trace, 
In wounded grandeur and expiring grace ; 
Where Devastation holds her gloomy court. 
And boding birds on restless wing resort j 
While Cynthia pale glides o'er the dreary boundj 
And Fancy rears ideal terrors round, 
D 2 



I WENSLEYDALK. 

Sheds oil the dusky mind portending forms, 

Of palsied walls and wrecks of sweeping storms; 

Of roaming elves, with demons of dismay, 

Nurs'd by the twilight of the mental day. 

Yet jjainful is the scene, if right we state. 

Its past aspiring aims and present fate : 

Hence are we taught to curb life's vain career. 

When curst Ambition taints the list'ning ear; 

Hence learn the golden mean, Contentment's plan. 

Which constitutes thie solid bliss of man; 

A spring whence lucid streams unceasing flow^ 

In climes solstitial and Siberia's snow; 

Grant me in purity and peace to live : 

Stvell not, my soul ! 'tis all the world can givei 

To prospects less sedate we bend our way. 
And, in apt numbers, fitly would display 
The terrac'd heights expanded to the sun. 
Or velvet turf where panting coursers run ; 
There bred and trained, exulting in the chaec, 
They win the splendid trophies of the race. 
Full to the point where first the meek-ey'd morn, 
Dispensing joy, on crimson wings is borne, 



WENSLEYDALE. 2» 

Far, far extend your view o'er Mowbray's plain, 
Till distance curtains the remote domain ; 
Distinctly, near, each pressing image yields 
The fair idea of Thessalian fields. 

Nor here shall Exercise remain unsung*, 
Thou nurse of strength, kind patron of the youngs 
Health's polar star, by which we steady steer. 
Thro' all the changes of the varying year. 
No more the hov'ring hand, by thee restor'd, 
Shall coyly cull its pittance from the board ; 
By thee attuned, by thy attractions lead, 
No poppy's balm needs sooth the sleepless fted ; 
No pen prescriptive, fraught with Latian lore, 
Or skill imported from the Coan shore. 
Need plan the process with important air, 
With fruitless pity, or with dubious care ; 
The drug disgusting shall the mansion fly. 
And thou and Temperance the dose supply. 
But each wise rule, the bliss of health to reach. 
In sterling strains let musing Armstrong teach 

Exalted Leyburn next, with open arms, 
Due north our moving observation charms; 



30 WENSLEYDALE.^ 

Where, from its rocky verge and sylvan side, 
Most aptly rang'd in gay theatric pride, 
We view a lower world, where beauties spring. 
Tempting and fair as classic poets sing; 
Woods, streams, and flocks, the vale's sweet 

bosom grace. 
And happy Culture smooths her cheerful face, 

Why need we want the shining sphere to know, 
How music charms, why spreads the heav'nlybow. 
While Gargrave's piercing lore descries from far. 
Along the milky way, the tube-sought star ; 
Whose skill can teach, whose candour will explain. 
Each distant wonder of Urania's reign. 

Westward we move, till chaos-like appears, 
The quarry's fragment of a thousand years. 
Led by the bracing breezes of the plain. 
High Preston's tissu'd green we soon attain, 
Delighted ramble in the daisied mead. 
That springs elastic with the bounding steed. 
But cease my steps, free feast the roving eye ; 
Here villas rise, there martial ruins lie : 



WENSLir!fDALE. 31 

No wishM-for something, fitly to intrude, 
No want of frolic Nature, pleasing, rude. 
No bloomy softness fondly to allure. 
Drawn from the smiling banks of easy Eure, 
Nor temples pious, objects nobly bold, 
Need we deplore ; the aggregate behold ! 

Now from her squatted bed, enclosed or bare, 
With dextr'ous evolutions starts the hare : 
Where the stretch' d greyhound in the curving 

course, 
Vies with the wind's accelerated force; 
Exerts each nerve in emulation's cause. 
While judgement faulters to decide applause. 

Opposing motives urge the fierce career, 
Hope him impells, she rapid flies with fear ; 
While fear and hope one mingled scene supply, 
The victor and the vanquish'd breathless lie. 
So strain the youths, proud of gymnastic fame j 
So strove the heroes of tli' Olympic game; 
So speed the polish'd coursers of the plain; 
So drives the storm impetuous o'er the main. 



%2 W£NSLBYCALe. 

Come, crescent-nymph, full fraught with sylvan 
lore, 
Nor blush to school thyself on Albion's shore. 
Hark ! how the cheering, loud, emphatic horn. 
Convenes the clamorous pack to scent the morn ; 
The tainted tufts the rising peal provoke. 
Till the mixed clangor agitates the oak ; 
The base-ton'd man, the shrill obstrep'rous boy. 
Exulting fill the wide-spread notes of joy ; 
The chearful notes far-echoing rocks rebound. 
And nerves accordant own the magic sound ; 
Scarce less in pow'r the music of our chace. 
Than the famM strains of softly tutor'd Thrace- 
Long time the folds Volpone with blood had 
stain'd. 
Long had the village of his spoils complain'd. 
Long deep dismay had travers'd o'er the plain, 
Where deeds atrocious spoke the despot's reign. 
Scar'd by the tumult of promiscuous cries. 
Sly from the brake the furtive prowler flies j 
An awful band with vengeful pomp pursues. 
And the bold times of Nimrod's sway renews ; 



WENSLEYDALE. 83 

The distant rear a jovial van succeeds, 

While the wide welkin rings, the victim bleeds ! 

No more his wiles shall innocence betray, 

Nor mangled fragments mark the caitiffs way : 

Rejoice ye flocks, applaud each gladd'ning wing, 

Peace, lo Paean ! lo Paean ! sing. 

Say tyrants, say, by guilty passions hurl' d, 

Who roll your thunders o'er a trembling world, 

Shall pow'r rapacious hope a better fate ? 

So far'd, so justly fell, Rome's mighty state. 

But leave to Somerville the wreathed bays, 
Nor dare, my Muse, thy feeble voice to raise ; 
Low at his shrine Parnassian flow'rets strew. 
Nor vainly strive his footsteps to pursue. 
Unrivall'd he in classic chace to roam. 
Bring every rural pleasure winged home ; 
Where thought with thought contends in social 

strife. 
Each word a scion shooting into life. 
Wide and more wide his lofty muse expands, 
And every trophy of the Nine commands; 

E 



34 WENSLEYDALE. 

For thy lov'd verse accept, immortal shade ! 
This artless tribute to thy merit paid. 

Alert, you sportive now the grouse pursue. 
Of mingled brown, and variegated hue ; 
With urging instinct silently beset 
The latent captives of the wavy net ; 
Or, quick as lightning, with explosive force, 
Deadly arrest their sounding airy course; 
The fragrant breath of flow'ry heath inhale, 
That gently floats upon the fanning gale ; 
Thy labours partly sped, refreshment near. 
Then lend to noontide calls a willing ear. 
Should frowning skies portend a coming storm, 
By some clear spring thy tented station form ; 
And yet for shade, Sol's beaming ray intense. 
We deem it prudent, timely thus to fence ; 
With mirth relax, nor from the vine refrain. 
Which gives the pallid lymph a blushing stain. 
Proceed, ye sons of sport, on this safe plan. 
Reject the foodful pastime if you can ; 
If nerv'd thy limbs, and flushing health thy boon. 
Sprightly as morn, and glowing as tlie noon. 



WEiVSLEYDALE. 35 

Assert your strength, enjoy the western ray, 

While loaded breezes round the pointers play. 

At eve review whatever labours please, 

And prove the luxury of toil and ease, 

Till sleep, kind genial pow'r, demands his turn. 

And, vig'rous, strings thee for returning morn. 

Lo ! where the glist'ning store, disclos'd to day. 
By chemic art assumes more potent sway ; 
Now in extended sheets secure the pile, 
Now lend the faded face delusion's smile ; 
Now, vaunting, mimic the carnation's bloom. 
The canvas swell, or gayly robe the room. 
Ah ! were but these the uses of the ore. 
Death less had triumph'd on the Stygian shore . 
The crimson'd field, the horror-dashing deep. 
Had not so frequent uiade affliction weep. 

Say, Bolton, say, lord of each sparkling mine, 
For wealth upon diffusive hills is thine, 
Whose mazy vales, their duty to express. 
Bright tributes pour, array'd in gayest dress; 
E 2 



36 WENSLEYDALE. 

Where sky -bound circles measure thy domain, 
And Alpine heights connect the glorious chain ; 
Say, can this world, for thee so richly clad, 
Extended wide, another blessing add ? 
Added it hath — the choicest prize in life, 
The crown of ev'ry bliss, a tender wife, 
As morning fair, as downy zephyr mild, 
In form a Juno, purity a child ; 
Whose flowing pen the laurell'd Muses hail, 
While ev'ry grace adorns the tuneful tale. 

Southward we move, where spreading groves? 
declare 
The goodly mansion of the noble pair ; 
Not modern trimm'd, yet stranger to decay, 
A pleasing habitation we survey. 
No tortur'd objects, gothically bent. 
No fritter'd scenes disgustful, here present; 
No lark can hail a more enchanting dawn. 
No curving swallow skim a brighter lawn ; 
Streams, woods, and hills, their vying charmii 

impart. 
And, fresh from nature, nobly beggar art. 



WENSLEYDALE. 3t 

Surrounded thus, well may the poet say, 
Absent from thee, my vale, " I've lost a day. " 

Now let our steps the verdant tracks pursue, 
And catch the passing objects full in view ; 
Yon mystic windings of the hill pervade. 
The ample circus, or the open glade; 
Or devious saunter where the shady way 
Secludes the storm, and Phoebus' piercing ray; 
Collect instruction from the throngs we see 
Thro' life sagacious, in each plant and tree; 
With eye attentive rapturously trace. 
The various orders of the puny race. 
Whether they woo the cover or the gleam, 
Or nimbly navigate the swarming stream ; 
Whether along the lap of earth they stray. 
Or on light pinions steer their airy way ; 
Mark how the sap in slender tube ascends ; 
Where sense begins, and vegetation ends ; 
How nature works consistent in her plan. 
From simple atoms up to complex man. 

Behold that arch, the glory of the sky, 
Its vivid tints, inimitable dye; 



38 WENSLEYDALE. 

See fluid gems with gayest lustre proud, 
The floating remnants of a weeping cloud. 
Say, who explain'd the nice-refracted ray. 
And brought forth darkness to the test of day ; 
Who with sagacious ken best understood, 
The stated motions of the whelming flood ; 
Or how attraction so unerring steers, 
Thro' the vast void, variety of spheres ? 
Newton ! the lofty wonder of the age. 
Learning's great boast, and Europe's leading 

sage; 
Deceit he knew not, bred in Nature's school, 
He fathom'd depths with Nature's line and rule ; 
The key of science, Truth to Newton lent. 
And bade him nobly range her whole extent : 
The delegated trust she warm approv'd, 
WhenHeav'n resum'd the soul it form'd and lov'd. 

Of Redmire's mining town how shall we sing? 
The circling verdure and its healing spring 
Are all the rooted peasant's native tale. 
Who ne'er transgress'd the barrier of his vale. 



WENSLEYDALE. M 

His vulgar thoughts to narrow views coufin'd, 
Nor genius charms, nor arts expand his mind ; 
Simply he thinks the cloud-invested mounds, 
Contains the compass of the world's vast boutids; 
Yet to the peasant's rude unpolish'd hand, 
Owe we the fairest structures of the land : 
On his strong base is built the Doric dome, 
From him arise the textures of the loom ; 
As heavy weights the finer springs impel, 
So, with toil's efforts nobler minds excel. 

Thron'din athletic state, superbly stands 
The graceful castle 'midst luxuriant lands ; 
Historic Bolton, thro' past ages fam'd, 
Now by the line of ducal Powletts claim'd, 
Where erst the wealthy Scropes in state sojoumM, 
And Scotland's Queen in tragic durance mourn'd. 

Here pause, my muse, nor stop the rising sigh, 
Nor yet the forming tear from Sorrow's eye; 
Farewell Mirth's rosy train, inspiring bowlj 
The festive welcome and dilated soul : 



40 WEJfSLEYDAUi. 

'Tis here reflection plumes her moral lay, 

And sets contrasted shades in just array. 

Ah, chang'd indeed ! ah! how revers'd ! condole. 

Ye mocking echoes, and the wild wind's howl. 

What can Ambition's swelling domes avail, 

When Time's corroding fangs their walls assail I 

Hence let this scene, this mournful scene, impart 

One useful lesson to the virtuous heart, 

How human ken to destiny is blind, 

And that man's works "leave not a wreck behind." 

Enough of woe, then turn we to behold 
Creation's ampler works, aspiring, bold; 
See beacon'd Penhill, view its stately rise. 
Whose scaling altitude invades the skies ; 
Go, climb its brow, its airy tracks explore, 
Where breezes wanton from the western shore ; 
Fondly survey fair Cleveland's distant strand, 
And golden Durham's terminating land. 
The eye descending now o'er Penhill's base, 
We decent Witton's pleasing prospects trace. 
Here fleecy troops adorn the sloping green. 
There grouping herds diversify the scene ; 



Now waves voluptuously the pregnant blade, 
With Boltou's swellini^ woods oi' deeper shade ; 
While the gay buck, as of his honours vain, 
Asserts the empire of his native plain; 
In rank supreme amon^ the brutal race, 
When sraoaks his haunch, or he inspires the chace. 
Last in the view, wild surgy mountains lie, 
That blend their distant summits with the sky. 

But now, O Aysgnrth ! let my rugged verse, 
The wonders of thy cataracts rehearse. 
Long ere the toiling sheets to view appear. 
They sound a prelude to the pausing ear. 
Now in rough accents by the pendent wood. 
Roils in stern majesty the foaming flood; 
Revolting eddies now with raging sway. 
To Aysgarth's ample arch incline their way. 
Playful and slow the curling circles move, 
As when soft breezes fan the waving grove; 
*Till prone again, with tumult's wildest roar, 
Recoil the billows, reels the giddy shore ; 
Dash'd from its rocky bed, the winnow'd spray 
Remounts the regions of the cloudy way, 
r 



42 WENSLEYDALE. 

While warring columns fiercer combats join, 
And make the rich, rude, thund'ring scene divine. 

Thus bellows Eure ; so Young-'s seraphic fire 
Pourtrays the fury of Busiris' ire : 
" Where fall the sounding cataracts of Nile, 
" The mountains tremble, and the waters boil, 
" Like them I rush, like them my fury pour, 
" And give the future world one wonder more.^ 
Thus man, the harpy of his own content. 
With blust'ring passions, phrcusically bent, 
Wild in the rapid vortex whirls the soul, 
Till reason bursts, impatient of controul. 

But now the wavy conflict tends to peace. 
And jarring elements their tumults cease. 
Placid below, the stream obsequi'ous flows, 
And silent wonders how fell Discord grows. 
So the calm mind reviews her tortur'd state, 
Resuming reason for the cool debate. 
So lessons Eure : a hapless exile she, 
Proscrib'd her realm, unleagued witli the sea; 



WEN^SLEVDALE. 43 

Not SO the Tiber of imperial Rome, 

Not so the fam'd Scamander's milder doom. 

Fly, Folly, fly, whose inauspicious frown 

In evil hour sedtic'd my Eure's renown. 

The Adriatic faithful clasps her Po, 

The Thames and Shannon's streams securely 

flow; 
Why then, O Eure, thy natal rights retain ? 
Why are thy waves forbid to join the main-? 
Presumption strange! shall drawling" Ouse rebel, 
That winds her sedgy course from turbid cell ? 
Shall she usurp the empire of thy flood. 
And mix with thine, contaminated blood? 
Forbid it Fates, forbid it all ye train. 
That guide the streams or rule the briny main. 
As well might France dispute our naval fame, 
Or hawks associate with the trembling game ; 
Sooner Maria's radiance cease to please, 
Poets grow rich, or Pain accord with Ease; 
Impartial Justice deal alike their fate. 
Who sap a country, or who save a state ; 
Sooner shall social Crowe contract his heart, 
Or cease a day good humour to impart ; 
r 2 



44 WENSLEYD\LE. 

As soon just Danby shall relinquish sense, 
Or polisliVi Darlington create offence ; 
To torteit truth a Camden meanly deig^n, 
Or science languish in a George's reign ; 
Sooner shall Virtue prove an empty name ; 
Thau we the honours of tue Eure disclaim. 

Come then, pure stream, the purest of the 
throng, 
Come, and adorn my tributary song. 
1 repare, ye nymphs, prepare the tepid wave, 
And let Cleora there securely lave. 
Be still thou North, be hush'd thou peevish East, 
Cleora bathes, Cleora torms the least. 
Let no rude breezes on thy bosom dance. 
Nor undulations break the smooth expanse. 
Ye masking willows of the close recess, 
Be V irtue's guard, and lend the veiling dress. 
Now looking round she quits her loose attire, 
The scaly tribes with one accord admire. 
The conscious stream dividing to embrace, 
Cliisps tlie coy panting prize in all her grace. 



WENSLRYD\LE. « 

Transparent cover'd, how enchanting sTiine 
The lovely-inodel'd liinb-« of shape diviae! 

As Damon s'eephi^ 'midst the foliao^e lay, 
Luli'd by the warblers of each hov'ring sjiray, 
His dreams, the heralds of his future hour, 
Had ran^'d extatic thro' each Cyprian bow'r. 
Damon, the blithest lad of rural youth, 
The spotless transcript of untainted truth, 
Saw quick approaching from the radiant morn, 
In azure vest on downy aecher borne, 
A matchless form; her passion-dartiug eye 
Eclips'd the brigntness of itaha's sicy, 
The loves attractive shone in blashes meek. 
And health high circling mantled in her cueek, 
Her every step, her attitude and air, 
InelFable, confess'd the heavenly fair; 
Near and more near the beauteous for.n advanc'd, 
Stole on his soul in Pleasure's zenith tranc'd, 
Till by the genius of the shade appriz'd, 
He woke, and found the vision realiz'd. 

The fair retires, unconscious of the view. 
Nor au^ht si>e wish'u, nor augnt oi lOve she knew. 



4« WEVSLEYDALE. 

Each pore pervaded, soon a beech he sought, 
And on its yielding bark essay'd his thought. 

* Go, pensive lines, address the lovely maid, 

* That yonder on the flow'ry turf is laid, 

* Go tell — but. Language, 'tis beyond thy art, 

* To speak the poignant feelings of my heart. 

* Go tell — ah ! Goddess, deign my mind to guess 

* Nor farther urge, in pity, my distress ; 

* Come Love, thou parent soft of hope and fear, 
' Thou meek beguiler of the circling year, 

' That gild'st the desert, animat'st the pole, 

* And spread'st thy potent empire o'er the whole ; 
' Come, aid the vent'rous swain success to try, 

* Entreat one warbling boon of Melody.' 

As turns the bark each shifting breeze to save, 
So ply'd the youth, and these instructions gave. 

' Haste, envied thrush, that charm'st the ear, 

* Where woodbines fragrant twine, 

* High perch with music's melting air, 

* And votive hail yon shrine. 



WENSLEYDALE. 4^ 

* Convey each thought my throbbing breast 

' Despairingly sustains, 

* Bid sweet Cleora give me rest, 

* And kindly ease my chains. 

' Compassion to the fair belongs, 

* Thy wooing art employ, 

* Impress her with prevailing songs, 

* Or farewell ev'ry joy. 

* The pilgrim thus, worn down Avith woe, 

* Implores some sacred maid, 

* That she would graciously bestow, 

* Her mediating aid. 

* The pray'r is heard, life springs anew, 

* And hope elates his soul, 

* The toil now less'ning to the view, 

' He gains the distant goal.' 

Who can describe ? speak, ye compeers in love, 
Ye lone frequenters of the nodding grove ; 
Paint, if ye can, how soft persuasion hung 
On the sweet accents of the minstrel's tongue, 



4$ WENSTEYDALE. 

As stands the sailor whe^i in awful hour, 
The winds tempestuous o'er the ocean pour ; 
In such suspence remain'd the timid swain, 
While mute he listen'd to the suppliant strain. 
Inspir'd at length, himself the fair address'd; 
The yielding fair approv'd the soft request. 

Should these mild scenes but haply prompt 
desire, 
Or gently stir my Strephon's native fire; 
O ! let him come, and Pan's calm moments share, 
With faithful friendship's superadded care ; 
W isely with taste each jocund day prolong. 
In mental banquet, ever wilUng song; 
Here woo fair peace, here quit all ardent strife, 
Deaf to each syren vanity of life ; 
Happy to catch amusement, and explore 
- The wond'rous secrets of great Nature's store ; 
Make this the point where mutual wishes meet, 
And calmly rest at length our weary feet. 

Anchor' d at Wensley, T no phantoms court. 
My pastime authors, and my business sport. 



WENSL^YDALE. 49 

Not that my fancy starts no cheerful change, 

For to the friendly dome I love to ran^e, 

With heart at ease, of local pleasures share, 

IMix in the group, or saunter with the fair. 

And should some rankling arrow darkling glance. 

Shot by the fool, by envy, or by chance, 

As Atlas firm, unvarying to the end. 

Do thou, my soul, on rectitude depend. 

So shall the pointed steel innoxious fall. 

And virtue rise triumphant over all. 

But shall my Vale alone engage the bard, 
Nor Ebor's sons, nor Albion's praise be heard ? 
Rise, Fancy, rise, O nurse the darling theme 1 
While Truth illumes it with her native beam. 
And thou, my land, a point amidst the whole, 
*' Thou little body with a mighty soul, " 
All hail, Britannia, paragon of isles ! 
Where learning triumphs, sacred freedom smiles j 
Where persecution ceases to alarm. 
Where but the guilty feel thy potent arm. 
By ocean zon'd, thou canst the world defy, 
While arts commercial all thy wants supply. 



G- 



50 WENSLEYDALE. 

Seek Tve for honour at a source that's clear, 
In thy fam'd state, behold there bright appear , 
A Saville firm in each important trust, 
And princely Lascelles, resolutely just. 
Nor time abates their warmth of patriot-strife, 
In senates sound, unstain'd in private life. 
** Go, son, " each parent says, " and catch their 

teal, 
*' Like them, unceasing serve the public weal ; 
" Like them, indignant spurn each low desire ; 
** By their example form thy future fire. 
*' Too great the soaring task '.--then snatch one ray, 
" To light thy steps through life's less cultur'd 

way. " 

Should aught of eloquence thy bosom warm, 
Or Roman diction in the Forum charm. 
Hear then a Wedderburne the law expound. 
And mark the list'ning audience rang'd around. 
Mark too his calm address, his sense refiu'd. 
The graceful climax and expanded mind; 
The lucid period with conviction fraught, 
And language stagger from the force of thought. 



WENSLEYDALE. SI 

Possess'd of him, why need we Tully name? 
Since Wedderburne and Tully are the same. 
A source himself, where Athens, Latium, shine, 
And all the charms of elegance combine. 

If soft persuasion, unaffected grace, 
With love extended o'er the human race ; — 
If learning, truth, or glowing zeal invite, — 
See them in candid Ely all unite. 
See them add lustre to the sacred lawn, 
Smde on the needy, on the friendless dawn. 
When merit pines, alert each want to scan. 
Steps forth the prelate, patron, and the man. 

Yes, Delia, yes, domestic worth is thine, 
For thee the virtues shall the chaplet twine. 
On thee the honours of the muse await, 
Superior pattern in the nuptial state. 
Now thrice twelve years, unknowing what was 

strife, 
Jointly we've trod the social path of life ; 
Progressive seen the human tendrils shoot, 
Play round the stem, and ripen into fruit. 



G 2 



.58 WENSLEYDALE. 

With rapture ey'd the smilini^ g-races grow, 
And taught the lisping' accents liow to flow ; 
While of their sportive triumphs we partook, 
And trac'd prophetic semblance in eacli look. 
Hail happy times ! nor shall reflection cease. 
Wisely to live past days of love and peace, 
When sweetly roving (irst on reason's chart, 
We mark'd each tender feeling of thq heart. 

Safe in the haven of consoling rest, 
Wc sip from ev'ry hour nectareous zest } 
Pluck from the graceful rose its irksome thorn^ 
And make our ev'ning cheerful as the morn. 
O grant, benignly grant, ye pow'rs divine ! 
The solid blessing, long to call thee mine. 
And when that day, that awful day, shall come, 
When Pieon skijl no longer waves our doom ; 
On some kind stone, perchance, the sculptor's art, 
Slay to the reader these faint words impart : 
Then may our names, as now our hearts entwine. 
Be thus remeraber'd in one common line: 
" Here rest the relics of a nymph aud swaiji, 
" Who equal shar'd life's pleasure and its pain. ' 



WENSLEYDALH. 53 

Beneath yon roof with mantling ivy spread. 
By peace, by virtue, and coatentment led, 
There dwells a man, within whose gentle hreast 
Life's scatter'd blessings permanently rest. 
Nor fast he thinks time's fleeting moments flow, 
Nor moves the sliding sand one grain too slow. 
A partner kind each duteous look displays, 
While prattling cherubs cheer his roiling days. 
The scythe's full swath, the sickle's grasp secur'd, 
And with each comfort of the year iumiur'd: 
His dog at ease, his cat demurely w ise, 
His flocks robust, and absent all disguise ; 
At eve returning from the pregnant field, 
Blest in whate'er domestic pleasures yield: 
The faggot brought, produc'd the wholesome fare, 
He gives to winter's blasts devouring care. 
As humour prompts him, and his gains prevail, 
Eager each ear to catph the coming tale, 
He tells in wontetl strain the day's exploit, 
And thus with rustic glee contracts the night. 
The social ev'ning past, Ije rests his heaflj 
Where friendly slumbers shade his humble bed. 



54 WENSLETDALE. 

What though no pomp salutes his op'ning ^y^s. 
Yet toil, sweet toil, the soothing down su)>jiiies; 
Early he breathes the salutary hour, 
Now carols loud, now weaves the shelt'rijg 

bow'r; 
Approves his lot, however lowly cast. 
And grateful shares of nature's plain repnst: 
Nor stoops to know how kings their sceptres wield, 
A cot his palace, innocence his shield. 
If bleak the wind, or the world dreary lies. 
His earnest labour mocks the chilling skies; 
While timely cares repel invading snows. 
And the firm heart with double ardour glows. 
His simple food, the pledge of rosy health, 
Secures his joy, supplies the want of wealth. 
Thus circumscrib'd, he nothing more pursues. 
Nor asks one other good to close his views; 
Till time the vital fluid slowly stops, 
And mellow, like autumnal fruit, he drops. 

Perish the meanness of exulting pride. 
That idly would such bounded aims deride. 
Let Folly shout, let Vanity assume 
Her pert grimace, her ever-nodding plume; 



, WENSLEYDALE. * 55 

Let Dissipation and her giddy train, 

The gaudy meteors of a sickly brain, 

On Wings of Icarus disporting fly, 

Till, victims in the gay pursuit, they die. 

He then whose heart such scenes as these can 

move, 
Still may he lead the peaceful life I love; 
Still, undisturb'd, the grateful state enjoy. 
Where changeful ease and business never cloy ; 
A fertile farm, a household debonair. 
From debt exempt, nor plagu'd with sordid care; 
The bearded field, the udder-swelling plain, 
Some fleecy bleaters, and a fit domain 
For winter's forage; if the glebe be cold, 
Manure to warm it from the teeming fold ; 
While, by such care, with glowing heart he spies 
A new creation fiom his labours rise: 
Brown ale, to gain kind Hodge's scraping thanks; 
For friends, the ruddy stream from Douro's 

banks ; 
A few good steeds to work, or ride for air. 
Or sometimes gently draw the tender tair: 
The cordial visit and the dry-wood flame, 
Associates lively, and the courteous dame. 



66 ' WENSLEYDALE. 

To rear the honours of connubial love, 
While softness joins each lesson to improve. 
These, these are mine ; nor want my wishes still 
Stores in reserve, the subjects of my will. 
Around ray barn the pamper'd pullets fly, 
And crowded streams the finny race supply ; 
Contiguous meads the titled loin afford, 
And willing servants tend my vail-less board. 
Should the laps'd hour an instant dish demand; 
Or casual guest quick urge tliepractis'd hand, 
Suspended high, the ready flitch descends. 
And the warm egg, luxurious feast ! attends. 
Pomona's gifts in fair succession flow, 
Freely my bees the luscious balm bestow, 
While Flora gayly smiling tempts my lay, 
And friendly converse crowns the festive day. 
In home-rais'd pleasures thus, devoid of strife^ 
Softly in social ease glides rural life. 

But still if gratitude no tribute brings, 
Nor piety to heav'n its rapture wings ; — 
If truth's strong cement should e'er cease to bind. 
Nor wisdom's precepts occupy the mind;— 



^ 



WENSLEYDALE. 57 

Still if within no yielding state of soul 
Receives the soft impression of the whole,^ — 
Earth's richest produce unadmir'd will rise, 
Unheard the warbling lark will mount the skies ; 
In vain the the soothing murmurs of the rills, 
In vain the lowings echo'd from the hills; 
The muse will fruitless sound the pleasing strain, 
And ev'ry hope of solid joy prove vain. 

H 



NOTES. 



NOTES. 



Note I. 

Arise, my Muse, fair Wcnslcy 's vale display. — Page 9. 

Wensleydale is situated in the division of 
Hang West, in the North Riding of Yorkshire, 
and takes its name from Wensley, a pleasant 
village in the vale. This dale may be considered, 
both for extent and fertility, as the first in the 
riding. The bottom of it is chiefly rich grazing 
land, through which the river Eure takes a 
winding and circuitous course, forming in many 
places very beautiful cascades. From the bottom, 
the hills rise on both sides with a gentle slope to 
an amazing height, interspersed with indosures 



62 NOTES. 

beautifiilly wooded^ for nearly two milos from tlie 
river. The soil orj the banks of the river is a rich 
loamy gravel; and on the sides of the hills, in 
ereneral a g'ood lean), but rather strong, and is 
niostjy upon a substratum of limestone. 

Almost every emir^ence on each side of this 
enchanting* and deiL-jhtful vale, points out new 
beauties; and in a country abounding with those 
nsajesilc irregularities of nature, none of them, 
from their great variety, ever satiate the eye. 
These commaudiiig elevations, en the north and 
south sides of it, run parallel for the space of many 
miles; presenting views, whicli cannot fail to fill 
the spectator with wonder and delight. 

^ Mr. ]\Iaudc, in comparing tlie two picturesque 
vales of Wharfdale and Wensleydale, makes the 
following observatioiis. 

'' In extent they are nearly equal. In the iirst 
you have more art, because property is more 
divided; in the last, superior nature prevails in 
the great lineaments of her character. Tiie 
Wharfe flows with more copiousness, and by 
filling its banks, continues longer to satisfy the 
eye; the Eure frolics in its course, amuses with 
islands and cataracts, yet rambles more coii- 
cealed, because "its banks are more wooded: but 



# 



NOTES. 6S 

both are alike the sportsman's delight. In qua- 
lity of land, as well as roads, the competition 
may be balanced." 

" With regard to scenery, Wharfdaie may 
be pronounced more brilliant and picturesque, 
Wensleydale more venerable and romantic, being 
decorated with ancient ruins and cataracts. If 
the former pleads the advantages of proximity to 
trade, the consumption of produce, with every 
convenience at hand ; the latter can boast of her 
minerals, more tranquillity with sportive amuse- 
ments, and perhaps a greater exemption from 
vice and also from expence in the articles of life. 
If a Zucarelli claimed Wharfdaie as the subject 
of his pencil, as more elegant ; a Poussin would 
seize upon Wensleydale as the object of his genius, 
because more sublime." 

" But the frame of the piece as we may call 
the marginal mountains, must be decisively 
allotted to Wensleydale, as they are so adapted by 
their level surface to either walking or equestrian 
exercise. In a few words, I make Wharfdaie 
my Venus, and Wensleydale my Juno ; but own 
them both divine. If the one hath more beauty, 
the other hath more dignity ; but were the British 
Apelles to draw a figure complete, he would 



% 



64 NOTES. 

undoubtedly borrow features from both. But is 
the competition still decided ? For the author's 
part, he freely owns himself incompetent to the 
choice, wavering to delej^ate the prize, and at last 
finds that divided taste, like two parallel lines, does 
not sensibly approximate towards a preference, 
thinking each the favourite by turns, when imme- 
diately under inspection. But happy and grate- 
ful is he, who has it in his power to enjoy this 
refined and innocent polygamy." 

" If general society be annexed to the ideas of 
rural life, the Wharfe will mostly captivate ; if a 
more sequestered participation of its joys be the 
desired object, the Eure must then prevail. Td 
pursue the controversy, and bring it to a more 
delicate discrimination, we find that even the 
touchstone of sepulture will not determine; for 
if I was to carry a wish to the grave, my heart 
should mix with either of the soils where it at 
last ceased to move." 

As the following account, written by Mr. 
Maude, was founded on a real event, and Wharfe- 
dale gave birth to one of the parties, we insert it 
in this place. The scene lay in the province of 
New York. 1778. 



NOTES. OS 

And here let genuine story weave her tale, 
A plaintive tribute to the injur'd vale. 

A virgin beautiful and gay, 

A frequent guest was seen, 
Where wounded sore by contest, lay 

A youth of gallant mien. 

iHis limbs, so active once, a load 

Of piercing anguish bore ; 
And paleness blanch'd his cheeks, that glow'd 

With ruddy health before. 

To sooth with smiles the damsel strove, 

And cheerful chat his smart , 
Till child of gentle pity, love. 

Had softly seiz'd her heart. 

Then Oh ! she left, with him to stay, 

Soft pleasure's sportive train ; 
By swains to sprightly dance op play, 

Solicited in vain. 

His faded face, his feeble frame, 

With fondness she survey 'd; 
While modest sense conceal'd the flame; 

That on her bosom prey'd. 

A close attendant near his bed, 

On ev'ry look she hung. 
And all his wishes heedful read. 

Or ere they met his tongue. 

To him she brought the healing balm. 

His anguish to assuage ; 
For him she pour'd the draught, to eald 

The burnins fever's rage. 
I 



i&B NOTES. 

Oft to his ruffled inind, repos* 
Her sweet persuasion gave; 

And ofl tohea-v'n her vows arose, 
His dubious life to save. 

But when at last n cure was wrought, 
By means her ca'e applied, 

The youth restor'd his country sought, 
The maid forsaken died. 

Adieu thou tender bud of spring, 
Thou purest type above; 

May this thy fate instruction bring, 
Salubrious hence to love. 



Note 11. 

The bird with human laugh, the cawing rook. — Page 27. 

The woodpecker, no less distin^uish'd by the 
cheerful peculiarity of his tone, and beautiful 
plumage, than by the striking^ fitness of his 
orii-ans for procurini^' food; so as to be the admi- 
red object of most naturalists who mention him. 

3Ir. Maude. 



Note III. 

Full then to sight from Spenithorne the gay. — Page 27. 

Spenithorn is a pleasant village about one 
mile north-east of Mic^tjileham, and two miles and 
a half soutli-east of Leyburn; in which are 
d'li^htiully situated the seats of Wm. Chaytor, 
Esq. and Col. Straubeazie, the only acting 
magistrates in this dale. 



NOTES. «r 

In this villac^e was born and baptised, on the 
24tli of October, 1675, tiie ^reat Hebraist John 
Hutchinson, well known in the literary world, 
and whose strenuous and particular way of think- 
ing, relative to the principUs of the Mosaic His- 
tory, has attracted many disciples, and established 
him the founder of a sect. His life is written by 
Robert Spearman, Est^. 

There is an anecdote in the life of this person, 
which though it may carry with it some appearance 
of levity to relate, we hope to stand excused in 
that point from its singularity. This author 
being visited by Dr. Mead, that learned and 
humane physician, in order to give his patient 
some flattering hopes of recovery, told him with a 
smile, that he would soon send him to his Moses; 
meaning that he would enable him to pursue the 
subject upon which Hutchinson was then writing. 
The sick man, tenacious oi lile, imagining the 
the Doctor meant the bosom of Moses, was so 
irritated at tlie expression, that he dismissed the 
Doctor, and never saw him afterwards. 

According to this author's cabalistical notions, 
the root of all languages aud of all science was 
to be found in the Hebrew tongue and the sacred 
Writings. Thus, agreeable to his doctrine, it 
would follow, that the earth must be of a cubical 
form, because the scripture mentions the four 
corners of the earth, N either are wanting those 
I 2 



I 



\ 



88 NOTES, 

who believe that the resurrection will happen iu 
the Valley of Jehoshaphatnear Jerusalem, as it 
is deemed by the ignorant Turks to be the middle 
of the earth, and consequently most convenient 
for the final assembly; not considering that 
every exterior point of a sphere is centrical with 
respect to surface, nor recollecting that Omni- 
potence is not confined to relative distance or 
mensuration, about where the dead shall rise. 

Hutchinson had a good heart and no incom- 
petent head ; but left the obvious road of inter- 
pretation, to seek bye- paths, that he might be 
more ingeniously in the wrong. There was a 
shade in this person's character, from which 
perhaps, in some degree, few authors are ex- 
empted. It seems to be emplantedin human nature, 
for the wise purpose of not suffering our minds 
to stagnate, and of exciting us to laudable pur- 
suits; I mean the foible, vanity: but when it 
breaks forth in oral expression, it becomes less 
excusable. Such was the case before us ; for 
when Hutchinson was passing by the humble 
house of his nativity, after an absence of years, 
and haying acquired some fame, he pointed to 
the tenement, and bade his friend take notice of 
the place, as it might become the subject of much 
enquiry and veneration, Mr. BJaude. 

Hutchinson served the Duke of Somerset in 
the capacity of steward j and in the course of his 



NOTES. 69 

travels from place to place employed himself in 
collecting fossils : we are told that the large and 
noble collection bequeathed by Dr. Woodward 
to the university of Cambridge was actually made 
by him, and even unfairly obtained from him. 
When he left the duke's service to indulge his 
studies with more freedom, the duke, then master 
of the horse to George I., made him his riding 
surveyor, a kind of sinecure place of ,£200 a 
year with a good house in the Meuse. In 1724 
he published the first part of Moses's PrincijAaf 
in which he ridiculed Dr. Woodward's Natural 
History of the Earth, and exploded the doctrine 
of gravitation established in Newton's Principia: 
in 1727 he published the second part of Moses's 
Principia, containing the principles of the Scrip- 
ture Philosophy. From this time to his death, 
he published a volume every year or two, which, 
with the MSS. he left behind, were published in 
1748, in 12 vols. 8vo. 

The following extract from Bellamy's History 
of all Religions will give some idea of the prin- 
ciples of Hutchinson's philosophy, to those 
unacquainted with his works. 

" Hutchinson was received as an ingenious 
biblical philosopher, which philosophy he attemp- 
ted to prove in a work he wrote, intitled Moses's 
Principia. He is much followed by Parkhurst, 
who says, speaking of the word Heaven, * This 



70 NOTFS. 

is a descriptive name of the Heavens, or of that 
immense celestial fluid subsisting in the three 
conditions oi Jire, liyht, and spirit, which fills 
every part of the universe. He maintained that 
this name, Hearen, was first given by God to the 
celestial fluid, or air, when it began to act in 
dispersing and arranging the earth and water; 
that it has been the great agent in disposing all 
material things in their places and orders, and 
thereby producing all those great and wonderful 
effects which are attributed to it in the scriptures, 
and which of late years it hath been the fashioik 
to ascribe to attraction and gravity.'''' 

The reader may find a disthict and comprehen- 
sive account of the llutchinsonian system in a 
book entitled, Thoughts concerning Religii n, fSfC. 
printed at Edinburgh, 1743; and in a letter to a. 

bishop, annexed to it, first printed in 1733. Ed. 

> 

Sir Ralph Fitz Randal, Lord of the Manor 
of Middleham (Reg. Hen. V 111.) had a mansion, 
now almost in obliterated ruins, at the east end 
of Spenithorn; the small remains of which, 
except the vestige of a wreck contiguous to the 
high-road, are converted nito a farm-hou e. 

Mr. Maude, 



NOTES. 71 

Note IV. 

Stands high placed Middleham, marh'd with martial scars. 

Page ^7. 

The Town of Middleham is situated on a 
gentle rising ground, about a short half-mile from 
the south bank of the river Eure, in the Wapen- 
take of Hangwest, in that part of the North 
Riding of Yorkshire called Richmondshire, in 
the deanery of Catterick, and in Domesday is 
called Medelai. The market is on Monday, and 
it has fairs on the 5th and 6th of November for 
horned cattle and sheep. 

Ribald or Robert, Lord of Middleham, was a 
younger brother of Alan Rufus, or the red. Earl 
of Riclimond, and the first Lord of Middleham 
after the conquest of England; to whom the said 
Alan (who died without issue A. D. 1089) gave 
the manor and honor of Middieham with the 
appurtenances, and many other lands, which 
before the conquest belonged to Chilpatrick, a 
Dane, in the time of the Confessor. Robert, the 
son of Ralph, and grandson of Ribald, built the 
castle of Middleham; to whom Conan Earl of 
Brittany, or Bretagne, gave Wensleydale, or 
Wenslydale, Wendesleydale, Wendeslaydale, or 
Wenslaydale, with common of pasture. The 
descendants of Ribald enjoyed a fair fortune here, 
till issue male failed in Ralph the second, the third 
son ot Robert who built the castle, and died 



« NOTES. 

54 Hen. III. 1270. It is said his estates were 
divided between his three daughters; of whom 
Mary the eldest, who was then married to Robert 
de Neville, son of the Lord of Raby in the 
county of Durham, had this honour and castle 
for her share. Afterwards the castle being in the 
hands of Hen. VI. by the forfeiture of Richard 
Neville, Earl of Salisbury; and Sir John Neville, 
uncle to Ralph Earl of Westmorland, who died 
without issue, being found heir to his honour and 
estate, and adhering to that King in his disputes 
with the house of York, was made constable of it 
for life. Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, on 
the 26th of July, 1469, after the battle of Edge- 
cote Field, otherwise called Banbury Field, 
which was fought in a plain called Danesmoor, 
near the town of Edgecote and three miles from 
Banbury, having taken King Edward IV. in his 
camp at Ulney, a village beside Northampton ; 
by the Archbishop of York, brother to Warwick, 
the King was brought prisoner to Warwick castle, 
and thence to York: he was also prisoner at 
Middleham, whence he escaped (as it is said, from 
a hunting party) and came to London. But 
it has been discovered from the Fcedera, that 
Edward IV. while said universally to be prisoner 
to Abp. Neville, was at full liberty and doing acts 
of regal power. 

By the death of the Earl of Warwick at the 
battle of Barnet, all his lands became forfeited, 



NOTES. T» 

ns were also those of John de Neville, Marquis of 
IMontac^iie, his brother: among which last was 
this lordship, which by act of parliament, 11 Edw. 
IV. was settled, with other their estates, upoji 
Richard Duke of York, that king's brother, to 
hold to him and the heirs of his body laAvfully 
begotten. 

The castle of Middleham stands on the south 
side of the town, and Avas formerly moated round 
by the help of a spring conveyed in pipes from the 
higher ground, although on the north and Avest 
sides no traces of a ditch appear ; but an old Avail 
subsisted Avithin memory, that had been erected 
as a safeguard from the moat on the side next 
the toAvn, for the prevention of accidents. Leland 
says, it Avas in his time (about 270 years ago) the 
fairest castle in Richmondshire, except Bolton : 
but in this remark, that author could only mean in 
respect to the wear and preservation of Bolton, 
since in point of magnitude, the former had emi- 
nently the advantage. It does not occur to my 
reading, that Middleham Avas ever besieged by 
the parliamentary force, though common report of 
the place alloAVs it. In the remains, Ave trace more 
the ruin of decay and demolition for the purposes 
of sale and use, than military destruction. 

The place Avas much favoured by Edward IV. 
and his brother the Duke of Gloucester, after- 
Avards Richard III. whose only son, EdAvard, Avas 

K 



a JfOTES. 

born in this castle, A. D. 1473. About a quarter 
of a mile south of the castle, is an artificial mount 
of a considerable heii^ht, designed for a place of 
strength, and the highest fortification or keep 
thereof is made in the form of a horse-fetter, which 
was the device of the family of York, like that of 
Fotheringhay in Northamptonshire; and between 
thismount and the castle is a remarkably loud and 
distinct echo. 

Middleham having grown into tlie favour of the 
house of York, Richard, then Duke of Glouces- 
ter, intended to found a college at this place? 
which was to consist of a dean, six chaplains, and 
four clerks, also six choristers and one other 
clerk. For this purpose he obtained 'from his 
brother Edward IV. a licence, hearing date, 21 
Feb. 17 Edw. IV. Thomas Rotheram, Abp. of 
Y ork, in the second year of his translation, and 
24 March, 1481, exempts the dean, the church, 
and the inhabitants, from all archiepiscopal 
jurisdiction. In 1482, John Sherwin, Arch- 
deacon of Richmond, exempts the church of 
Middleham from all archideaconal, episcopal, 
ordinary, and other ecclesiastical jurisdiction 
whatever, reserving five siiillings sterling out of 
the profits of the church of Middleham. On 12 
April, 1482, Robert Oolhe, dean and chapter of 
York, confirm the exemption made by the Arch- 
bishop; and in April, 1483, they confirm the 
exemption made by the Archdeacon of Richmond* 



NOTES. T5 

Notwithstanding: these steps taken for the 
privileges of the intended college, yet before 
any buildings were erected, or provisions made 
foi: the support of the chaplains or choir, Richard 
left the work imperfect, being prevented by the 
troubles in which he was involved, or by death; 
but there is a field which still retains the name of 
College Close, near the river Eure, in which 
probably the pile was to have been erected. 

However the incumbent still retained the name 
of dean ; who being exempt from the ordinary 
jurisdiction of his diocesan, as a royal peculiar, 
exercised divers privileges and ecclesiastical 
jurisdiction within the bounds of his parish, as 
marrying people living in it, or any other parish, 
without a licence or publication of banns : although 
in the year 1736, and in the year 1730, a warm 
persecution was carried on against Luke Cotes, 
then dean of Middleham, for marrying a couple 
without publication of banns or a licence first had, 
grounded on the statute of the 10th of Anne, ch, 
19, s. 176, for the penalty of of 100, given by that 
statute. But upon producing the before-mentioned 
(;harters and other proofs, the defendant Cotes in 
both actions bad a verdict, and the dean of Mid- 
dleham, for the time being, afterwards enjoyed the 
same privilege, till iinaiiy abrogated by the 
marriage act, 26 Geo. li. The freeholders 
never answered to any court but to the dean's. 
Ffobate of wills is said to have been granted by 
K 2 



76 NOTES. 

the deans, ^vho never married witli licences, nor 
granted any. 

The following was taken from the parish church 
at Middleham. 

Sir Hcnrie Linley, that Avorthie kniglit of 
Middleham Castle, buried 8th of November, 1609. 

Ladie Feronoma Linley, buried 1st of August, 
1610. 

Sir Edward lioftus and Mrs. Jane Linley, 
married 28th of February, 1639. 

Arthur, son of the Right Hon. Lord Loftus, 
baptized 18th of June, 1644. Mr. Maude, 

In the 37th year of the reign of Henry VI. 
this castle belonged to the Earl of Salisbury, who 
in that year collected 4000 men, and marched 
from hence to Lancashire, in his way to London, 
in order to demand redress of the king', for injuries 
done to his son by the queen and her council 
Here also, according to Stowe, the bastari 
Falconbridge was beheaded, in 1471, although In 
had received the royal pardon; he was brough 
hither from Southampton, where he had beei 
seized by Richard Duke of Gloucester; hi; 
head was sent to London, and placed upon tb 
bridge. 

From the reign of Richard to the present time 
Middleham Castle is rarely, if ever, mentioned i 
historv, T n,UryA jnrloofl in his Itinerary describ^^ 



NOTES. TT 

its state in his time; " Middlehara Castel (says 
he) joyneth harde to the town side, and is the 
fairest castel in Richmontshire next Bolton, and 
the castel hath a parke by it called Sonske, and 
another caullid West Parke, andGaunlessebewell 
wodded." Again, " Middlehara is a praty 
market-town, and standith on a rocky hille, on 
the top whereof is the castel meately well diked," 

" Al the utter part of the castelle was of the very 
new setting of the Lord Neville, called Darabi, 
the inner part of Middleham castel was of an 
auncient building of the Fitz Randolph." 

" There be 4 or 5 parkes about Middleham, 
and longing to it, whereof som be reasonable 
wodyed." 

This castle is also mentioned in an ancient 
comedy, called George-a- Green: it is said to 
have been written by John Heyard, about the 
year 1599, and supposed to have been founded on 
historical facts, or some ancient tradition. 

In this play King Edward is made to bestow 
the castle on an old man, called William Mus- 
grove : the story is as follows. The Earl of 
Kendal having excited a rebellion, in which he 
is favoured by an incursion of the Scots, under 
their King James, the Scots are vanquished with 
great slaughter, and their king taken by ol 



IB NOTES. 

Musgrove, uho is represented as an old man of 
103 years of ag^p, and having been the scourge 
and terror of that nation. The scene is laid about 
Wakefield and Bradford. After the victory 
Mus^Tove is introduced to King Edward, when 
the following dialogue ensues. 

Edm. Ah! old Mu.«groTe, stand up, 
It fits Hot such grey hairs to kneel. 

3Ihs. Long live my sovereign, 
Long and happie be his days ! 
VoiichKaie, my graeious lord, a simple gift, 
At Billy Musgrove*s hand. 
King Jiimes at Middleom Castle gave ine this. 
This Monne the honour, and this give I thee. 

EdW' GodanuTcie, Musgrove, for this friendly gift. 
And for thou fellest a king with this same weapon. 
This blade shall here dub Taliant Musgrove kniglit. 

3Ius. Alas ! what hath your highness done ! I am poor. 

Edw. To mend thy living, take thou Middleom Castle, 
The hold of both; and if Ihou want living, comijlain. 
Thou shalt have more to maintain thine estate. 

It is certain, that about this time the castle was 
the property of Richard Duke of Gloucester, but 
Musgrove being 103 years of age, would not, in 
all probability, hold it above a year or two, after 
which it might be granted to Richard. 

All that can be further said on this place, with 
any degree of certainty, is that it was inhabited 
so late as the year 1609, by Sir Henry Linley, 
knt. ; after his decease, an appraisement of his 
goods was taken, on the 3d of January, 1610 : 



NOTES. 79 

the inventory was in 1781 in the hands of the then 
Dean of Middleliam : and th-it in the 2-2nd of 
Charles I, it was ordered by the Committee at 
York, to be made untenantable, as being of no 
further use as a garrison. 

Thus neglected, purloining avarice destroyed 
a noble monument of art, once the habitation of 
kings and princes ; which from the strength of its 
walls, and its massy fragments, seems to have 
been eifccted by no less a force than the explosion 
of gunpowder. 

The small remains of this once magnificent 
castle, stand on the south side of the town : it 
consists of an envelope or out-work, fortified 
with four towers, enclosing a body or keep. This 
envelope is in figure a right-angled parallelogram, 
of 210 feet by 175; its greatest length running 
north and south, and each of its sides forming 
one of the cardinal points of the compass. It has 
four towers of different magnitudes, one at each 
angle ; and at the extremity of the south-western 
there is an addition of a round one. Great part 
of the east side of this building is fallen down ; 
within this, in the centre, stands the keep, or 
what were the state appartments ; the outer part 
being commonly allotted for servants' lodgings, 
stables, and oflices. This building, which is 
much higher than the envelope, is of a shape 
similar to It, except that besides a kind of turret 



80 NOTES. 

at each angle, there are two others at its side, 
one on the south, and another on the east : the 
first is a small one, and placed near its centre ; 
the other, much larger, joins to the turret on 
the south cast angle ; it is about ten or twelve 
feet higher than the adjoining wall, which mea- 
sures about fifty five feet, and was probably, when 
entire, some feet hiarher. 

The main building is unequally divided by a 
wall, which runs from north to south. Here still 
remain the broken stairs, which the boys, in their 
pastime, frequently ascend, to frolic on the top 
of the cuius, an exercise attended with danger- 
A few years ago, says Mr. Grose, a cow, of 
genius we suppose, (pardon, gentle reader, a 
moment's trespass on the dignity of history) led 
by the allurement of ivy, or some such botan- 
ical idea, or excited by the love of a prospect or 
antiquity, elevated herself to a situation, which 
however she might approve, was no ways conge- 
nial with the taste or ambition of her incurious 
master. A council being held, how to avert the 
imminent danger to which she stood exposed, it 
was resolved at last to leave the means of retreat 
to her own judgement; which she accordingly 
performed, to the no small amusement of the won- 
dering croud. 

The extent and variety of these ruins, as you 
approach them from the moor, westward, a 



NOTES. 6 J 

tk. multiplicity of rugged towers and lofty fissured 
walls appear, which cannot fail presenting the 
observer, a pleasing picture of its majestic decay. 
But of all the views, that of the south-west has 
greatly the advantage, from its being laid more 
open by the injuries of time; hence the internal 
ruins are less eclipsed, which figure in the pro- 
spect, and exhibit many singular and fiintastic 
forms. Here the cumbrous mass, suspended on 
a tottering base, seems ready every moment to be 
levelled with the ground : the disjointed stone, 
the deserted pillar, and the almost floating arch, 
present themselves ; whilst the stunted shrub, the 
pining moss, and the veiling ivy, join in the group, 
to display every species of ruin, and to mourn the 
general wreck, which time has made. But let us 
reverse the scene to the more pleasing part of its 
situation. 

If the castle of Bolton affords a more particular* 
view of the western and middle part of Weusley- 
dale, that of Middleham has the superior advan- 
tage of more distinctly commanding the woods, 
the finely scattered villages, and the mazy progress 
of the Eure, through the spacious meads on the 
eastern part of the vale ; whilst the sight, stretch- 
ing over the great plain of Mowbray (including 
the country about Bedale, Northallerton, and 
Thirsk) loses itself among the hills of CIevelan<lj 
bordering on the eastern sea. 



83 NOTES. 

To view the internal part of this castle as a 
picture, we can seldom find exhibited in a sinejle 
piece, so diversified a ruin. It is here that the 
destructive hand of time apparently exercises its 
power in sportive mood ; and if we judge from the 
lineaments left of the multifarious group, a doubt 
might arise upon the memorable, but now deserted 
stage, of human actions, whether light or serious 
description should claim its remains. The fan- 
tastic forms into which these ruins are cast, the 
mimic echo of its walls, and the festivity which 
once tenanted the dome, seem to declare for the 
first ; but if in these our contemplations we have 
recourse to history, and the desolation before us, 
the point is soon determined. This once haughty 
pile then becomes a striking monument of worldly 
instability; and its now shattered frame, the 
tragic mourner of its past lofty and deluded 
inhabitants. 

On a review of these structures, the purposes 
of their foundation, and the times in which they 
were erected, every reflecting man must congrat- 
ulate himself on the happiness of his fate, in living 
at a period when the fierceness and frequency of 
intestine wars no longer scourge this favoured 
land, nor make such constructions necessary; 
when the laws of Government, and the rights of 
humanity, are more securely established and more 
critically understood; when even the privileges 
of a modern peasant would be injured by a com- 



NOTES. 8S 

parison with those possessed by the chieftains 
of ancient clays. 

Military mansions of celebrated men in ruins, 
may be deemed, perhaps, more the mirrors of 
mortality, than those of the monastic class. The 
latter may command more reverence, but the 
other will convey, probably, more instruction. 
The ascent to fame is there shewn to be not less 
arduous than painful; and when the precipice is 
gained, the ground on which we stand is often 
found too narrow, or the height too dangerous* 
to explore it in safety. The historic page of those 
we now allude to, the Nevilles in particular, may 
tend to confirm these remarks. We there see the 
gallant, turbulent Warwick, half frantic with 
power and popularity, in the full career of fame 
or success, holding the balance even of royal 
contentions. We view him great in alliance, 
formidable in fortune, brave in the field, noble in 
the senate, and almost the sole bestower of the 
British diadem. One step further, and we view 
his two surviving daughters the meed of princes, 
the most consummate beauties, and the richest 
heiresses of their days! a palace also, under 
whose roof not only a lengthened line of high- 
derived proprietors, but even presumptive royalty, 
were born, and a captive king had dwelling. But 
alas, behold the sum of all ! behold the dismantled 
state of this his bulwark, once committed by the 
founder to his heirs for ever ! the very site and 
L 3 



84 NOTES. 

perishing materials of which are now ahnost 
become a dubious property. Let towering' ambi- 
tion humble herself then at this school ! let tyranny, 
rapine, and licentiousness, stand admonished, 
however shielded ; but may legal liberty and the 
rights of humanity, flourish while time exists! 

Reluctant and heroic to the last, even in a 
conquered state, these ruins seem to frown 
resentment at every injury offered by time, with 
no ally to stretch forth the saving hand, but that 
of the antiquary. 

Who props the sinking pile, renews its sway, 
Lives o'er the past, and joins the future day ; 
Thus from oblivion wrests the hoary name, 
And on a nodding ruin builds his fame. 

The above account of Middleham Castle was written by Mr, 
Maude, and communicated to Mr. Grose, from whose works it 
was extracted : it was not inserted in the former editions of this 
Poem. 



The following descriptive and historical account 
of Jerveaux Abbey, sent by C Claridge, Esq. 
though not connected with the Poem, is however 
inserted by the Editor, as it may afford instruc- 
tion or amusement to the visitor of its ruins. 

About six miles from Masham, at the entrance 
of the valley leading to Wensleydale, stands the 



NOTES. 85 

ancient Abbey of Yorevale, Joarvaille, or Jore- 
vaux, upon the estate of the Earl of Ailesbury. 

In the reign of Stephen, Akariiis son of Bar- 
dolph, who had great possessions in the county 
of York, gave to a monk called Peter Quintian, 
a man skilled and experienced in the art of physic, 
and to other Monks of Savigny, a certain part of 
his lands situated in Wensleydale; where iif 1 145 
they founded a monastery, which was successively 
called the Abbey of Fors, Wensleydale, and 
Charity, For what reason Peter and his associ- 
ates came to reside in England, is not stated: 
unless, as it is believed, they resided in tlie 
mansion or castle of the Earl of Richmond, under 
pretence of curing diseases and healing wounds; 
or that they might collect the alms oi" tbeir 
order, or distribute their charitable contribu- 
tions to the poor ; however the donations, winch 
Akarius and others made to them, Earl Alan 
confirmed by his charter, Avitnessed by Conan the 
archdeacon, wherein he confirms the donations 
given to them by Akarius, for the souls of his 
father and mother, and for the souls of his ances- 
tors. He also granted them by the same charter, 
the commonage of his pastures in Wensleydale, 
whatever they may be worth. 

In another charter he confirms the grants made 
in the first, and as a further encouragement, he 
gives them as much pasture and meadow land as 



86 NOTEg. 

they may want, in the forest of Wensleydale, 
and as much timber as they please out of the 
forest, for the use of building ; and if they should 
discover any mines of lead or iron, they were 
allowed to work them for their own use; and to 
have all game that was bitten by the wolves in the 
same district. 

Soon after the granting of this charter, Alan 
Fequested Peter to inform him, when they intended 
to commence their building, as it was his wish to 
lay the first stone. At the time appointed, the 
Earl, with a number of his retainers, attended at 
Fors, for the purpose ; when coming to the place, 
where the building was to be erected, he pleasantly 
observed to his followers, that they all had great 
landed property, and hoped they would assist in 
building a house to the Lord. To which sugges- 
tion, it is said, some consented without hesitation, 
and others refused to comply with his wishes, 
unless on certain conditions. Thus, in the year 
1145, they began their building: a temporary 
oratory of wood was erected, for the use of the 
monks, till the abbey should be fiinished. 

Roger de Mowbray, having heard that certain 
monks of Savigny had begun to build an abbey 
on the banks of the river Eure, and being anxious 
to be a partaker of their prayers, with great 
devotion and liberality, gave to Peter and his 
associates all the wood, through which the road 



NOTES. 8T 

rims from Brij^wath as far as Witebercuade; 
tlieri^ht of fishinj^ in Ilii^lamare; and the warren 
and pasture of all his forest: which grant was 
witnessed by Roger, Abbot of Bellaland or 
Byland. 

Not Idng after these donations, Earl Alan went 
to Bretagne, and acquainted the abbot of Savigny, 
that Peter and other monks had begun to build 
an abbey on his demesne, not far from his castle of 
Richmond in England, which he presented to 
the abbot. Serlo, the abbot, very unwillingly 
accepted this donation ; for he disapproved of the 
foundation, as made without his knowledge and 
consent; neither did he choose, though repeatedly 
solicited by Peter, to supply it with monks from 
his convent, on account of the great difficulties 
experienced by those, whom he had before sent 
over into England. He, therefore, in a general 
chapter, proposed that it should be transferred to 
the Abbey of Belland in Yorksliire; which from 
its vicinity, would be better able to lend the 
necessary assistance required in its yet infant 
state. This being agreed to, he acquainted 
Peter therewith by letter, who, on receiving it, 
submitted himself with Con an and Humber, his 
associates, and a lay -brother, to the delegated 
authority of the abbot of Belland. 

This abbot proceeded to Uredale, and staid 
there till the Purification of the Blessed Mary, 



88 NOTES^. 

regulating the management of the building^, ^nd 
providing the necessaries of life. Before his 
departure, he ordered Peter, and the two monks, 
his associates, to attend at Bellaland on the first 
Sunday in Lent; which they accordingly did. 
At a chapter held there on that day, abbot Roger 
ordained and constituted John de Kingston, 
abbot of Uredale. The abbot appointed Peter 
and his two associates, with nine monks of his 
convent, to attend John de Kingston. Accord- 
ingly on Wednesday the eighth of March, 1150, 
abbot John, with his twelve monks, left Bellaland 
for Uredale, at Avhich place they arrived on the 
Friday following; when they were met by Akar- 
ius, the founder, and other persons of rank, who 
received them with great honour, promising John 
their advice and assistance. 

John appointed Edwald his prior, and Peter 
his steward, and other monks into their several 
offices there. This community underwent great 
hardships and misery, not only from the smallness 
of the endowment and the sterility of their land, 
but also from the inclemency of the air, and the 
unhealthiness of the situation. In this distress 
they were relieved by the abbot of Belland, who 
gave them five ships of wheat, and ten of barley, 
for their support till autumn. He gave them also, 
with the consent of his convent, ten oxgangs of 
land in Ellington, wliich Serlo, a lay-brother, 
had given them on his admission to the monastery ; 



NOTES. 89 

together with ten oxen, ten heifers, and six mares 
with their foals. Their wants and distresses still 
continuing, Peter was sent by the abbot to the 
Earl of Richmond, who was then on the conti- 
nent, lo make known to him their wants and 
distresses, and to request his assistance; other- 
wise they would be under the necessity of retiring 
to Belland. 

The reception that Peter, the steward, met 
with, was very flattering : the Earl wrote to 
John, absolutely forbidding him to retire from 
Uredale, and promising him substantial assistance 
on his arrival at Richmond. Elated with these 
promises, Peter went to Savigny, where he 
stopped for fifteen days ; and on his departure 
for England, the abbot gave him more reliques 
for the new abbey at Uredale. 

The Earl of Richmond not arriving in time to 
alleviate the wants of this community, the abbot 
was obliged to send five of his monks to Belland, 
and three to Furness, to reside there, not having 
sufficient for their support. Two years passed 
away before the Earl arrived at Richmond, when 
he relieved their immediate wants, and shortly 
after proceeded to the valley, with his barons and 
vassals, to hunt: they continued there six days, 
on account of the abundance of stags and red- 
deer, which aiforded them great amusement- 



M 



90 NOTES. 

John took the first opportunity of relatin^^ to 
the Earl the distressed situation they were in, 
and craved his assistance : by way of soothing 
him, the Earl promised to consult with his pur- 
veyor and others, upon the best method of ren- 
dering them the support they wished for. When 
he retired, he took Peter the steward with him, 
who for a long time resided at the princely castle 
of his lord. 

Earl Alan died on the 28th of April, 1146, and 
was succeeded by his son Conan, who had a 
great regard for the abbot of Jorevale ; and when 
he saw the place was not suited for a monastery, 
he gave to abbot John and the convent, a waste 
and uncultivated tract of land near East-Witton, 
and a large piece of pasture ground in another 
part of Wensleydale: in 1156, Conan caused 
the monastery to be removed from Fors to a 
pleasant valley in East-Witton. This was done 
with the consent of Harveus, the son of Akarius 
the founder, and that of a chapter of the Cister- 
tian order, both given in writing; wherein Harveus 
reserved his right to the patronage of the abbey, as 
well as to the prayers of the monks, usually offered 
up for the founder and his relations. He also 
stipulated, that the bones of his father and 
mother should be removed and buried at Jorevale. 

The succeeding Earls of Richmond respect- 
ively confirmed the donations granted by their 



NOTES. 91 

ancestors to the abbey of Uredale, built in honour 
of the blessed Mary, in the territory of East- 
Witton; which con.-isted of lands, woods, &c. 
in Askerig, Nappai, Newbigging, Redmire, 
Herveby, Walburn, Mersks, Feldome, Dalton, 
Melsamby with Dideestoue, Rich-Langton upon 
Swale, Whitewell, Apelton, Tunstall, Burty, 
Heselton, Hawkiswell, Burton Constable, Fin- 
gall, Hotonhang, Ellynstring, Ellyngton, feturn- 
ton, Leinyng, Ostleby, Middleton Quenrow, with 
their appurtenances, for ever. 

After surmounting various distresses, the com- 
munity of this abbey continued, for near 350 
years, to reign in great splendour ; for at the dis- 
solution, according to Speed, it was valued at 
c£455. lUs. 3d. 

When the order for the dissolution of religious 
houses was issued, it may be seen irom the follow- 
ing letter, how active the agents were in carrying 
the wishes of their employers into effect: it is 
therefore not surprising to see so few vestiges of 
them now remaining. 

" Pleasythe your lordship to be advertysed I 
have taken down all the lead of Jervaux, and 
made it into pecys of half fodders, which lead 
amounteth to the number of eighteen score and 
live fodders, with thirty and four fodders and a 
half that were there before : and the said lead 
cannot be conveit nor carried until the next 
M 2 



92 NOTES. 

sommre, for the ways in that countre are so foul 

and deep, that no carryai^e can pass in wyntre. 

And as coneerninge the raising and taking down 

of the iiouse, if it be your lordship's pleasure, I 

am minded to let it stand to the next spring of the 

year, by reason of the days are now so short, it 

woide be double charges to do it now. And as 

concerning the selling of the bells I cannot sell 

them above fifteen shillings the hundred, wherein 

I would gladly know your lordship's pleasure, 

whether I sholde sell them after that price, or 

send them up to London ; and if they be sent up, 

surely the caryage will be costly from that place 

to the water. And as for Bridlington, 1 have done 

nothing there as yet ; but spayreth it to March 

next, because the days are now so very short ; 

and from such time as I begin I trust shortly to 

dispatch it after such fashion, that when all is 

finished, I trust your lordship hath appointed me 

to do : and thus the Holy Ghost ever preserve 

your lordship in honour. 

At York, this 14th day of November, 1558, by 

Your lordship's most bounden headman, 

Richard Bellyeys." 

This ancient structure had become nearly over- 
grown with rough wood and briars, and scarcely 
any trace of it as a building remained, except some 
broken walls, covered Avith ivy, and the tops of a 
few arches, nearly level with the ground ; when in 
the year 1805, the late Thomas Bruce Brudenell 



NOTES. 98 

Bruce, Earl of Ailesbury, visited this place; and 
amon^ a great variety ot improvements projected 
upon his estate, was much pleased with an experi- 
ment that had been made by his steward, in digging 
down to the bottom of one of the arches, which 
proved to he the door of the abbey-church, and 
led to a beautiful floor of tesselated pavement. 
His lordship directed the whole of the ruin to be 
explored, and cleared out; which was doue in 
1806 and 1807, at a very considerable expence, 
as the base of the building was buried several 
feet below the surface; when the abbey ctiurch 
and choir, 270 feet long, with the cross aisles, — 
the high altar, and several tombs or recesses, — 
the chapter-house, 48 feet by 35, with marble 
pillars, formerly supporting the roof, — were dis- 
covered; also the abbot's house, the garden, 
kitchen, refectory, cloisters, and dormitory. 

The great aisle was laid with tesselated pave - 
ment, in geometrical figures ; it was found in a 
perfect state, but was soon after so much affected 
by the air and frost, that only lew could be preser- 
ved ; however before they were taken up, draw- 
ings were made Irom them by Mr. P. A. Rein- 
agle, Jun. of London ; and specimens were shewn 
to Sir Joseph Banks, Bart, who considered them 
to be some of the best he had seen in England. 
In the aisles were also found several stone coflins, 
with inscriptions thereon, in a very perfect state. 



94 NOTES. 

In order to preserve this ancient scite, it has 
been enclosed by a sunk fence, in part, or by a 
wall; and over the entrance is the following 
inscription. 

Yorevale Abbey, 

Founded Anno Domini 1141, 

Demolished Anno Domini 1537. 

These ancient Ruins were traced out. 

And cleared, by order of 

The Right Hon. Thomas Earl of Ailesbury, 

Anno Domini 1807. 

His Lordship also directed to be Ibuilt near the 
abbey, a neat plain house, as a residence for his 
steward; and preserved an ancient gateway, as 
an approach thereto, which though of a later 
date than the abbey, is much admired. He also 
projected an embankment of the river Ure, which 
has been made, with much advantage to his 
tenantry ; and directed the surrounding hills to 
be planted upon an extensive scale, as well as 
the general repair of the farm-houses upon his 
estate ; the rebuilding of the village of East- 
Witton, and widening the roads through his 
estate. 

In the year 1809, his lordship erected at his 
own expence, upon a beautiful spot near the 
village of East Witton, a parish church of stone, 
in the Gothic style, covered with slate, and finished 



NOTES. 95 

in a plain and chaste manner ; which forms an 
edifice highly ornamental to the country; and 
which he gave to the parish, with an acre of land 
for a church-yard ; and to this he added a clock, 
and six bells. The inscription over the west door 
of the tower, is as follows. 

In the year of our Lord 

One thousand eight hundred and nine, 

When the People of the United Empire, 

Grateful for the security and happiness, 

Enjoyed under the mild and just Government 

Of their virtuous and pious Monarch, 

Returned solemn and public thanks to 

Almighty God, 

That by the protection of Divine Providence, 

His Majesty King George the third. 

Had been preserved, to enter on 

The fiftieth Year of his Reign ; 

The Right Hon. Thomas Bruce Brudenell Bruce, 

Earl of Ailesbury, 

In commemoration of that event, 

First designed. 

And thence carried into effect, 

The Building of this 

Church. 

His Lordship also exchanged the glebe-land, 
which was scattered about the parish, for an 
equal quantity of his own, adjoining the cUurch ; 
on which he built a neat vicarage house and 



S8 JTOTES. 

offices, with a walled garden. His subscription 
in aid of Queen Anne's Bounty, made up the 
sum of cfnOO, which has increased the benefice 
from ,£56 a year to =f 100, exclusive of the vicar- 
age and glebe. 

His Lordship died the 19th day of April, 1814, 
in the 85th year of his age: the Right Hon. 
Charles Earl of Ailesbury, his only son, is now 
the owner of the estate. 



Note V. 

Far, far extend your view o^er Mowbray's plain. Page 29. 

History informs us that Robert Mowbray was 
distinguished for courage and conduct, and in 
the year 1093 was governor of the northern part& 
of this kingdom : he became a favourite of the 
Conqueror, who commissioned him to make head 
against the Scots, in which expedition he was 
successful, and on that occasion had extensive 
domains conceded to him. This grant must have 
been very large, for the great space or plain 
between the hills of Cleveland, Richmond, and 
Middleham, of which Northallerton may be called 
the centre, was, and continues to be termed the 
Vale of Mowbray. 

Mr. Maude's « WharfedaUr 



NOTES. D? 

Note VI. 

Exalted Leyhurn next, rvilh open arms. Page 29. 

Leyburn is a market-town, pleasantly situated 
on the side of" one of tliose sloping- eminences, 
which adcru the northern margin of the vale; 
it is about tv/o miles from Middlehara, and about 
a mile from Wensley. The town has been nearly 
rebuilt, within the last fifteen years. The market 
is on Friday, and is well attended: there are 
four fairs, viz. — on the second Friday in Febru- 
ary, May, October, and December, for honied 
cattle-and sheep. The principal inns are the 
Bolton Arms, and the King's Arms. There is 
also a bank, called the Wensleydale Bank, under 
the firm of Ilutton, Wood, and Co. which is a 
great accommodation to the neighbourhood. 

On the western side of the town, is a pleasant 
walk, nearly a mile in length, which is much 
frequented : it is formed on a mass of rock, which 
rises gradually to a considerable height above the 
valley, forming a natural terrace, from which the 
picturesque views and extended prospects of 
romantic scenery, can scarcely be exceeded. There 
is an opening from this terrace into the wood, 
which is called the Queen's Gap : through this, 
according to tradition, Mary Queen of Scots 
passed, when attempting to make her escape from 
Bolton Castle. Ed. 

N 



98 NOTES- 

NOTE VII. 
While Garfir(ive''s piercing lore descries from far. Page 30. 

A gentleman residing at Leyburn, Avliose abili- 
ties in maliioniatics, astronomy, and their dcpeji- 
doncics, are well known, far beyond the limits of 
tliis vale. [1780.] 3Ir. Maude, 



Note VIII. 

Jiut cease my steps, free feast the roviiifj cijf. Page 30. 

Highly ai^reeable as the prospect is from tlie 
terrace of Leyburn shawl or wood, it undoubt- 
edly yields to the view from Preston Scar, at a 
station from a point projectiuE^ over the village, 
wear to the turnpike road at Searthnick. 

The advantage of this view, besides its greater 
variety of objects, is likewise that of its being 
most commodiously accessible to all kinds of 
carriages. The s])ectator has thence a full sight 
of the valley, the castles of 31iddlehain and 
Bolton, a glimpse of the cataract of Aysgarth, 
no less than eight villages and seven churches, 
most of which are ornamented with very hand- 
some steeples. 

But indeed there is not an eminence -.vhich con- 
tributes to inclose tlie vale, but what can boast of 



NOTES. oa 

the beauties of its situation, and with this superi- 
ority too, above all other jjlaces i remember, that 
thoug-h equally fine with the Downs oi" Wilts or 
Dorset, for pasture and exercise in wet or dry 
weather, being- ui)on a limestone, the country is 
highly diversified Avitli those majestic irregularities 
of nature, which never satiate. Add to this, that 
those happy circumstances of pleasure and health, 
run parnllel on the north and south sides of the 
valley for numy miles, attended with the richest 
pastures, copious streams, and gdod roads. 

Though Derbyshire is repute<l to be the lead- 
ing county for i-emarkable and romantic prospects, 
they seem to be more meagre, are less compounded 
of the g-reat and little, the cultivated and ruder 
parts of nature, with the intermixture of ruins, 
than Avhat fall to the lot of this district. 

31 r. 3Iuude. 



Note IX. 

AUrl, ijoii iporticc now the Gi ousc pursue. I'ag-e 34. 

To many \\ho live ii) the southern districts of 
of this kingdoHi, it i!k._, be necessary to explain, 
that the shooting of uu.or-game or (jt'onse, is a 
diversion little known to the couiities southward 
of Yorkshire and Derbyshire, It is an exercise 
much more laborious than the pursuit of partridge, 
of which season it has also the start of about live 
. L. of C. ' N 2 



100 NOTES, 

weeks. As the scene of action is chiefly on 
wild heaths, it is not unusual for parties to ertcaKip 
in the day-time, to take refreshment, and secure 
themselves from had weather; to wliich the 
description in the poem alludes. The hird is 
larger than a partridge, which in shape it some- 
what resembles; is of a fine glossy variegated 
brown, with eyes encircled by a very bright scarlet- 
coloured memjrane, and featl'.ered legs and feet. 
The food of this bird consists of bilberries, (the 
fruit of the vaccinium of botanists,) with the tops 
and flowers of the ling or hoath. lis fie h is 
reputed to have the highest flavour of any British 
bird. Mr. Rlaiule. 



Note X. 

Lo! where the glisfnhig store, disclos^i to da'j. Page 35. 

The moors or wastes are here replete with lead, 
and so bountiful is nature to this district, that 
after having fringed the more fertile part of the 
valley with open and commodious pastures for 
exercise and the chace, the background of tlie 
countrj becomes no less valuable for its minerals, 
besides affording plenty of peat, limestone, and 
coals, for the accommodation and employment of 
its inhabitants. 

Here is also a beautiful spar, which conduces 
not only to the more ready smelting of ore, but 



NOTES. 101 



is applied to the forming of garden walks. It is 
much esteemed, not only for its lustre and binding 
quality, but being inimical to weeds. 

, Mr. Maude. 



Note XI. 

Nenton ! the lofty wonder of the age. Page 38. 

As the smallest anecdote concerning' so great 
an ornament to human nature, becomes amusing, 
especially in a character so uniformly studious as 
his, I shall briefly relate what may not be so gene- 
rally known, and therefore give the curious travel- 
ler an opportunity of bestowing one transient 
glance upon the humble tenement, where this 
illustrious man first saw that light, which he so 
well defined, or the elegant situation where he 
resigned his breath. 

The first is a farm-house at the little village of 
Woolsthorpe, consisting of a few messuages in 
the same stile of humility, about half a mile west 
of Colters worth, on the great north road between 
Stamford and Grantham, known to every peasant 
in the neighourhood. 

He died at lodgings in that agreeable part of 
Kensington called Orbell's, now Pitt's, Buildings. 
His academic time was spent in Trinity College, 
Cambridge, where his apartments continue to be 



IM NOTEK. 

mrutioned occas'ionatly, on the spot, to straiva^erSj 
with a (h'OTco of Imuhiblc exultation. His prin- 
cijn>! io\vn-hoiis«' was in 8t. Martin's .Street, tiie 
forneroi" Louj»-'s Court, Leicester Fielils^ where 
is yet !?ta!ulini^' a sniail observatory, Avhich ^ir 
Isaac huiit upon (he roof. 

Tlis temper >Yas so niihl and equal, that scarce 
aijy accidents disturbed it. t. One instance in par- 
fieidar, which is authenticated by a witness now 
ii\ini^', [1780,] brini>-s this assertion to a proof, 
iStr f saac being* called out of his study tt) a con- 
ttgntoiis room, a little do«^, cailed Diamond, the 
constant but incurious attendant of his master's 
rese;ircht's, happened to be Ic'ft iimon<i- the papers, 
uTid by a fatality not to be retrieved, as it was in 
the latter part of Hir Isaac's days, threw down 
a Ir^-iited candle, which consumed the alniost- 
liuished labours of suiiie years. Sir Isaac return- 
iiii^ (oo late, but to behold the dreadful wreck, 
rc?K!fved the author of it Avith an exclamation, 
,'ad i^irh r(f pahiidsj "Oh Diamond! Diamond! 
thou little kuowest the mischief done! " — without 
adding-a singdc stripe. 

Tiv(> obscurity in which Sir Isaac's pedig'ree 
is, iiivoived, who only died A. D. 1726, makes it 
less a woiider that we should be so little ac(!uainted 
\>,Itb the orig'in of the i^reat characters of anti(£uity, 
m- those of later a<jres. 



NOTES. . J 03 

TI19 author of liioyvaphia philosopiarn^ has 

nnuie Sir Isaac NcwtaM's iathev i\w viilcsi sou of 

.1 ])aroiU't, ami liU-thor sneaks ot" ihc kuii!i«fs 
J, 1 I •", 

|) itiiuiouial oi)uK>nce; tlic contrary of Avhi(;h 
assertions, the tcsJiniony of hisi p.ti'isii will satli(^i- 
cntly confirm, ((id not the account alone confute 
itself; for by consequence Sir Isaac woulil have 
li d au here(iifary title, \\aich e\ident!y was not 
tiic fact. This reuowiuMl phih)S()]>her was indehred 
more to nature for the i^'ifts, with which she had 
ordowed hlni, than, to Vac accidents of any i>feat 
(U'sceut ; a circumstance, whicli adds, ii"possihk», 
g'rcater lustre to the man, who, without the 
advantai^es of eminent hirth, alliance, or fortune, 
attamed the hii»;hest pinnacle of scientilic fame. 

The little I have been al>le to collect of thte 
family of tiiis i>"reat man, by a dilig-ent enquiry 
both in and about his native parish, and amonij; 
the very few of his surviNing- distant relations of 
half-blood, for none else remain, serves bat to 
confute the many j)alpable errors committed by 
his bioi>Taphers on this occasion; most of whom, 
ill copying- each other, havi' erroneously inadc him 
descend from a baroiiet. it niay be liovt' time 
therefore, when the traces of truth on that subject 
are nearly lost, brielly to preserve some traits of 
his {genealogy, which the inquisitive reader may 
tle])end ui)ou to have been careftdly collect (mI. 

Mr. Jo'ui Newton, the father of Sir Isaac, had 
a'paternal estate in Woolsthorpe and tlie neijrh- 



104 NOTES. 

bourhood of about fifty pounds a year. He was a 
wild, extravagant, and weak man, but married 
a woman of good fortune. His wife's name 
was Ayscoug^h, whose father lived in Woolsthorpe 
likewise, and was lord of that manor. The 
said manor, with some other property, descended 
to Sir Isaac, upon the death of his grandfather, 
Ayscough. Sir Isaac made some trifling pur- 
chuses himself; and his whole estate in that 
neighbourhood, amounted, at the time of his 
death, to about of 105 per annum, which fell to the 
share of his second cousin, John Newton; who 
being dissolute and illiterate, soon dissipated his 
estate in extravagance, dying about the thirtieth 
year of his age, in 1737, at Colters worth, b^ a 
tobacco-pipe breaking in his throat, in the act of 
smoking, from a fall in the street, occasioned by 
ebriety. 

The father of the above John was also John 
Newton, a carpenter, afterwards game-keeper to 
Sir Isaac, and died at the age of sixty, in 1725. 
In the Rolls or Records, that are sometimes read 
at the Court-leets in Grantham, mention is made 
of an Ayscough, who is styled " Gentleman, and 
guardian and trustee to Isaac Newton under age." 

It is very certain that Sir Isaac was a post- 
humous issue, and had no full brothers or sisters ; 
but his mother, by her second marriage with Mr. 
Smith, the rector of North-Witham, a parish 
adjoining Coltersworth, had a son and two or 



NOTES. 105 

three daiic^hters ; — which issue female afterwards 
branching by marriages with persons of the names 
of Barton and Conduit, families of property and 
respectable charicter, partook, with the Smith's 
of Sir Isaac's personal effects, which were very 
considerable. 

Sir Isaac, when a boy, was sometimes employed 
in me.ial oifices, ev^n to aii attendance on the. 
servant to open gates in carrying corn to Gran- 
tham-market, and watching the sheep; in which 
last occupation, tradition says, that a gentleman 
found him, near Woolsthorpe, looking into a book 
of the mathematical kind; and asking some'ques- 
tions, perceived such dawnings of genius, as 
induced him to solicit the mother to give her son 
an university education, promising to assist in the 
youth's maintenance at college if there was occa- 
sion. But whether that necessity took place, is a 
point I have not been able to determine. 

He lived a bachelor, and died in his 85th year, 
having, as i r 3I ition ^ii or nsd me, who quoted the 
authority of Sir Isnc's owa confession, never 
violated the laws of chastity. 

The house at Woolsthorpe has seemingly under- 
gone little or no exterior a'teration, since the time 
it inclosed this greit man, and continues to be 
visited by the curious, who occasionally pass the 
Northern Road. 

o 



106 NOTEl 

There is extant a letter from Sir Isaac, dated 
from Jermyn Street, where he also lived, which 
I have read. It is now in the possession of aii 
inhabitant at Colters worth, and descends by heir- 
ship, thoug-h the subject is only upon common pai'ish 
business; a circumstance which shews, how much 
the humble owner, unconnected with the family or 
the science of our philosopher, venerates his cha- 
racter, eve)i, as I have been informed, to his having 
resisted gold for the purchase of so apparent a 
trifle. 

A relation of the Knight, the late Rev. Mr. 
Smith of Linton, in Craven, Yorkshire, left a 
small ivory bust of admirable workmanship exe- 
cuted by that celebrated artist, Marchand, which 
from its elegance, similitude, and placid expression, 
is truly valuable. It is said to have cost Sir Isaac 
oneliundred guineas, and is specKiedin an authen- 
tic inventory of his effects, taken by virtue of a 
commission of appraisement in April, 1727, now in 
my. possession. It appears that his personal estate 
amounted to <£31,821. 16s. lOd. which was distri- 
buted among eight relations, Sir Isaac dying 
intestate. He had also an acquired farm or estate 
at Baydon, Wilts, but of no greater annual value. 
It likewise appears, as a proof of his benevolence, 
that he was not an oppressive landlord, since at his 
death, there was owing hira by one tenant £Q0. 
for three years rent, and by another, for two years 
snd a half, a smaller sum. It may not be imper- 



NOTES. 107 

tinent to mention our philosopliei's wardrobe and 
collar, v/hicli in the valuation, stand thus. — Item, 
^vearing- apparel, woollen and linen, one silver hil- 
ted sword and two canes, ^£8. 3s. Item, in the 
wine vault, a parcel of wine and cyder ia bottles, 
jLli. 16s. 6d. The furniture and luxuries of his 
housebearin^ nearly the like pro})ortion,his library 
excepted, which consisted of 2000 volumes and 
JOG weight of pam})hlets. 

Since the publication of my notes hi the first 
edition of this piece, the cm'iosity of the public 
has been excited to enquire more particularly for 
anecdotes relative to tins exalted person. Besides 
the remarks made on this subject in our biograph- 
ical books, and otherwise dispersed among his 
eulogists, the reader is referred to the Gent. Mag. 
for the month of November, 1772, for a genealog- 
ical table of the family, and other matter, collected 
by a good hand from the papers of the late curious 
Dr. Stukeley, whose great partiality forour author, 
JTiitiated him early into the service of being irir 
Isaac's memorialist. Some particuhirs are also 
given in the annual register for the year 1772, 
under the sigr.aturo of J. 11. v.here a small circum- 
stanc-e ad\a:;ced by myself, is rather doubted; but, 
amicus Plato ^c. A refer( nee to the above-men- 
tioned periofhcal works, might contribute to enricli 
the future biography of this great man. The 
reader will excuse this digression, and also our 
attempt to commemorate the modest dwelling af 
o 2 



108 NOTES. 



Newton, which the philosophic eye may prefer to 
the proud palace of Versailles. Mr. Maude. 



Note XII. 



Of Redmire^s mininy town how shall rve sing f 

The circiing verdure and its healing spring — Page 38. 

Redrnire is a small village on the southern 
bank of the Eure, about four miles and a half from 
Leyburn : it is chiefly inhabited by miners. This 
place has obtained some degree of reputation on 
account of its mineral spring, which attracts 
numerous visitors in the summer months. Ed. 



Note XIII. 



Historic Bolton, ihrouqh past ages farn' d, 

Now by the line of du( ai P>.wletts claim'd. Page 3&, 

* Bolton Castle stands on the north side of 
Wensleydale, six miles west of Middieham. Its 
situation is admirably adapted to overlook, from 
its lofty walls, the extensive demesnes anciently 
belonging to it; as well as to express that magis- 
terial air of grandeur, so characteristic in the 
style of architecture. It was built at about the 
distance of half a mile from the river Eure, on an 
ascent, which gradually continues to an immense 

*The whole of this note is extracted from Grose's Antiquities, 
but was tvriltea and comiaunicaled to that geatlemaa.b; Mr. 
Maude, to. 



PEDIGREEf 



■mm ) 

AP8( aiio ajojoq pouiiq aq oj .fpoq s.q pa.dTJoiibaq a,[ 'c[g, '< 

199 'f! 

.3S oqi Ajusji SiHTi .JO U'S am jo pB,, aqs q.nqiv 'aaVlRSd 

''qi «'l aABi? osiB ai|^ •oi[ o} ^hom pnq Miibjiiui p.ioj p, 

...DjBui «Xajp -soqx oj jaiqSnBp ascq « 'Xjbj^t o^un paqn 

"" >«:i.....'.a.. fn„, ST.. ni.v ''.^.MT.. T:>ir nSn.imTu «.ah.mii 



af 

id 

it 

;s, 

le 

in 

of 

ers 

me 

the 

ro^ 

!se: 

ton, 

e in 

the 

rs is 

•ully 

ided 

lord 

hom 

e for 



AM &UPSALL;(1) 



477.; 



=Ivetta, dau. of William Ros, of 
Igmanthorp, co. Nott. 



I_-A_. 

vid 



Geoffry Scrope, Rector of Bowden, 
died 1380. 



je, earl of Wiltshire, 
,'headed 1399. 



rd Scrope,= Eil2abeth, dau. of 3. William le 
'?asuror 10 [ T.Chawortli,Esc[. -Scrope. 

[.died 1455 1 died 1466. 



>crope of Masham=: 
11, died 1475. 



Elizabct'h, dau. of Ralph 
lord Greystock. 



1 Scrope of Masham 
'died .S-. p. 

1 Scrope of Masham 
died s. p. m. Sept. 

1 Scrope of Masham 
a clerk, died s. p. 
3-2. 



1. Alice, coheir to her bro- 
thers, nuviricd Thomas 

Stranoreways, esq. 

2. Mary, marrir'd Sir Chris^. 
Danby, knt. 

3. Elizabeth, cohei ", mar- 
ried to Sir Ralph Fitz 
Raudolf of Spe)iitl. '>rp> 
knt. lord of Middl-ha "• 



>houl<l lay a stone over her grave, with three images; the or.. 
Iherof herself, and a tliird of her said daugiiter; with theii 
n, making mention whom they wtre , and this to the value of 
t should make a tomb over sir Jlenry Wentnorlh, knt. her lato 
me abbey, co. Lincoln, to the value of twenty pounds sterling ; 
other tomb to be made in Bisham abbey, co. Berks, to the 



NOTES.^ loa 

height, and forms a barrier to defend the pile from 
the northern winds. On the east is the village of 
Bolton ; on the west is a rookery, which opens 
into spacious pastures, formerly occupied as parks: 
while in the front, as well as on each side, tiie 
vale unbosoms its charms in the most engaging 
manner. 

This castle was built by Richard lord Scrope, 
high chancellor, in the tiiird year of the reign of 
Richard II.: the patent for its erection is dated 
4 July, 1191, and is still extant. Leland says it 
was 18 years in building, and cost 18,000 marks, 
or of 12,000, an enormoas siun in those days. He 
likewise relates, that most of the timber used in 
its construction, was brought from the forest of 
Engleby in Cumberland, by means of divers 
relays of ox-teams placed on the road. The same 
author mentions a remarkable contrivance in the 
chimnies of the great hall, and a curious astro- 
nomical clock. His remarks on the first are these : 
*' One thing I rauche notyd in the haulle of Bolton, 
how chimeneys was conveyed by tunnills made in 
the sydes of the waulls, betwixt the lights in the 
haullo; and by this meanes and by no covers is 
tlie smoke of the harthe in the hawle w onderfully 
convoyed." In this castle was a chantry, founded 
likewise with the king's patent, by Richard lord 
Scrope, consisting of six priests, one of whom 
was to be warden, to celebrate divine service for 
king Richard II. and his heirs. 



X O T K S. 



Tlie plan of this building- is of a quadrilateral 

fissure, ■whose g-reatest ieiigtli runs from north to 

south ; but, on measuring it, no two of the sides 

are found equal; that on the south being 184 feet, 

the north 187, the west 131, and the east 125 

fe t. it has four right-lined towers, one at each 

angle; but neither their faces nor flanks arts 

equal; cacli of the former measuring, on the north 

and south sides, 47 feet and a half, and on the 

east and west, only 35 feet and a half; the latter 

vary from 7 feet aii<l a half to six feet. In the 

centre, between the two tow ers, both on the north 

and south sides, is a large j)rojecting right-angled 

buttress or turret; that on the north side is 15 feet 

in front, its west side is li, and its east 10 feet ; 

on the south side the front is 12 feet, its east 9, 

and its west side twelve feet. As these buttresses 

stand at right angles to the building, and their 

Hanks or sides being thus unequal, neither north 

nor south curtains are one continued right-line. 

The grand entrance was in the east curtain, 
near the southernmost tower; there were besidea 
these, three other doors, one on the north and two 
on the west side. The walls are 7 feet in thick- 
ness, and 96 in height. It was lighted by several 
stages of windows. Leland says, the chief lodging- 
rooms were in the towel's; and that here Avas a 
fjne park, walled in with stone. 

In this castle IMary Queen of Scots was con- 
fined nearly the space of two years, being giuiriled 



NOTES. Uj 

l)y Sir Francis Knollos, under the inspection of 
lord Sciope. Ilcr coiifineiuent wns not very 
„closo, as she was permitted to ride out occasion- 
xxXif, and tradition reports, that she once attempted 
to make her escape, through a wood in the neigh- 
hourhood of Leyhiirn, by a road that still retains 
the name of the Queei^'s Gap. It was here that 
the tiuke of Norfolk, who was allied to the 
Scropes, made his fatal overtures; and the suspi- 
cions exc?ted by his attentions toihe royal prisoner, 
most probaWy contributed to her removal to 
Tutbury castle in Staffordshire : she had left her 
name upon a pane of i^lass in her bed-room win- 
d-ow, cut with a diamond ring-; which was preserved 
with great care for man j^ years, but has since been 
removed to Boltoii Hall. 

During the civil wars in the reign of Charles I.j 
this castle was bravely defended for the king, by 
Colonel Scrope and a party of the Richmondsihire 
Militia, but at length, Nov. 5, 1645, surrendered 
to the parliamentary forces on honourable con- 
ditions. 

Emanuel lord Scrope, earl of Sunderland^ who 
died without legitimate male issue, in the reign of 
Charles I., was the last of that ancient family, 
who inhabited the castle. This nobleman was 
president of the commission held at York in the 
above king's reign, and is mentioned by ^owell; 
who was secretary to his lordship. 



t\i NOTES. 

On an inspection of Bolton Castle, some simi- 
larity occurs, which in (general is in all castles of 
any antiquity. The circumstances here alluded 
to, are the immense size of their ovens ; the 
seeming unnecessary strength of their walls, for 
the time when the bow and arrow were in use; 
and the gloomy construction of their rooms. In 
respect to the first article, the presumption of 
supplying the besieged with bread in time of war, 
and ancient hospitality in time of peace, may be 
sufficient for explaining the taste of our ancestors 
in this way; but in regard to the other, it would 
appear, as if the distinguished founders of the 
mansions, were utter enemies to the all-cheering 
comforts of light and air; for notwithstanding 
small windows and apertures in the walls, agree- 
able to the mode in those days, might tend to give 
stability to the pile, and safety to the inhabitants 
in those military and feudal ages; certain it is, 
that much of this precaution might have been 
. spared, more especially aloft, without prejudice 
to either. Let us add to this the first of conside- 
rations, good health, which must IVequently have 
been sacrificed during the seasoning of the walls, 
which would take up half a century. Such is the 
apartment shewn as that in which Mary Queen of 
Scots was confined, and the bed room of the lord 
Scropes; both of which according to the refine- 
ment of the present age, would not be thought 
sufficiently good, even for the domestic animal* 
of a man of fortune. 



NOTES. 113 

To hazard n conjecture, the ereot'on of this 
castle might he calculated to clieck the growing 
and formidahle power of that of Middlehamel more 
ancient date; whose owners, the Ne\ils, from 
their enterprizins^ spirit, and the mutahility of the^** 
politics, became troublesome to many regal suc- 
cessions; whilst the Scropes were more pacific 
and loyal. This castle belongs to the Bolton 
family, it came into that line by the marriage of 
an ancestor with a daughter of Emanuel Scrope, 
Earl of Sunderland. 

The chasm seen in the building was occasioned 
by the fall of one of the towers, which once deco- 
rated and defended the pile. This event happened 
on the night of the 19th of Nov. 1761, tlie lapsed 
tower, being on that angle on which the castle 
had been attacked in the civil wars of the 17ili 
century. 

The castle is one of those, which, from the scite 
and preservation of its remaining parts is very 
pleasing to the eye and highly ornamental to the 
country; nor is it less an object of grandeur and 
beauty, seen from the avenues of the wood near 
Bolton-hall, the modern mansion of the noble 
owner of both, where, in several views, tbe castle 
makes a distant termination singularly fine and 
grotesque. 



1 1 l NO'J'l',«. 

In ilic ccnlro of (he cnHilr is a sqiinrr nrrn, 
CiiU-iiliilcd to j^\\r. li^lii, :iimI air lo Mir iiilcriiiil 
oilici^H iiiid ujiardiKMilH- 

Tlicrr niiH ;• (*li.i|nl in llic (Jasllc, dcdicaicd (o 
St. Ann, in uliicli a cliandy was loiindcd l»y tin; 
Jibovo llicliard lord S(i(»|)c (or (I I*iics(s lo <ud«'- 
brato niilHH for Ihc sonl oi Itidiard II. and liin 
lu'irs, on«' oj'fjicni (o be wardm. 

'I'liis was one ol" Ibc inland rasllrs, wliicli wrrr 
ordt-rcd by (be conimiftrc at ^ oik, in I(il7, in Ix^ 
ficslroyrd and nia<lc iinlcnabb'. 



NOTK XII. 

Ifiil viiti>, (} .ii/niiurth, li'l 1111/ r II Ill/I'd vrrnr, 

'J'lir iviinilfrn Iff till/ calaruvl» rcltvariii\- -t'ufn; 'II. 

TIk' roniaiilir silnalion of ibc bandsonic cbiircli 
of Ays<;ailb, on an ('niiin-m'c, solitarily overlook - 
iny;' (licsc <'a(ara<'(sor(b(' l<]nr<', wondcirnlly In-iirji- 
tcns (be: |>icl.iir<>H<|U(^ idea oC (bis nnnsnal scene; 
nor is (Ixm'c. any place, <bal. I know, iinn-e bajijiily 
adai>l<'<l (o insjiiie llie soolliini;' senliinenis of 
j'U'gy, (ban (ids. 'I'lie deecney of (be sdMicdlle 
widiin and \vi(lion(, its jjerlec^t. retirement., tlie 
rural cbiireb yard, tbe <lyin|i;' sounds oi' water 
amidst wood and roeks, wildly intermixed, at a 
<iis(an('e, witb tin' v.iricty of ina<;°iii(nde oldie sur 
itMiiidini;' bills, e(ni(iir t;rea(ly to enerease tbe 
;nvi'iilness ol" tlie }\ liole. Hut some late admirable 



NOTE'S. iifi 

|no(lu(<i<)ns, ill the flff^isu; strain, impose ;iii \itti-i 
««ilence on me, Mid (lie ri;i<iir»' of my sulijcct admit 
of any micli ;in ;it(»inj)(. 

In approfieliiiif;' Uw. falls flial arc ahovc lli'" 
bridge f'rorn tlie roa<l on tlio iiortli side, on wliieh it 
always oui^lit to he visited, yon liave th(^ siii«^iilar 
advantaj^(; of sr'.eini^ tli<'iri tliroiii^li a spacions lii^lit 
arch, whieh, from the ohliqnity<if tlieliig'livvay, prc- 
j,ent9 the river, at every step you advanee, in many 
ph;asini^ attitudes, till you mount the eronri of the 
hridt^e and take the whole in one beautiful gro- 
tes<pie view. 

VV'r- may add to this el(;^ant (/ireumstance ano- 
ther incident in character, that the concave of the 
bridg^O is emfxllislicd liy harii^inf^ [)etrifactions, 
and its airy battlement happily f»rstoone,d with ivy • 
near on the ri^ht hand of the road, attends a slop- 
ing wood, on the left is Aysj^arth steeple, nfagi- 
(lally, as it were erncrt^inj^ from a copse, vvhile the 
closinj^ back i^round of the view is an assemblag'e 
of multifarious shrubs, oer-i^reens, projectini^ 
rocks, and a lijioomy cave. 

The vvat*r fiiHiui^ rr-ar half a mile uj>on a surface 
of a stone, worn into iiifinite irrif^uous (nvitics, and 
inclosed by bold and shrubby clifl's, is every where 
ehantjini; its face, breaking forth into irref^uhir 
beauties till it forms the grand descent called the 
F'orce. — The late learned traveller, T)r, Pococke, 
o 2 



U« NOTES. 

whose search after the sublime and marvellous, 
brought hhn to this part, was said to own, with 
exultation, that these cataracts exceeded those in 
Eg"ypt, to which he was no stranger. 

There is yet an object seldom seen but by those 
who narrowly seek amusement, and even little 
known in the neighbourhood. This demands our 
note (lor our description it cannot have) upon a 
rivulet at Heaning, distant about two miles irqm 
these falls of the Eure. 

This curious fall of water runs into a low steep 
gill, which is difficult of access, and when viewed 
from the bottom, the stream appears like a silver 
chain, whose highest link seems connected with 
the clouds, descending through a display of 
hovering branches and shading foliage, which, in 
proportion to the thick or thinner weaving of the 
boughs, now bursts, and then twinkles, in a 
manner most amazingly captivating. In a few 
words, the most copious language must fail in any 
attempt to describe its unutterable charms, when 
seen at a season to allow it a force of water. 
Many scenes of entertainment of the like kind 
offer themselves, but of a much inferior class, on 
the Eure and its tributary streams, especially 
towards its source; such as those of Bowbridge, 
Hardrow Foss, Whitfield, and Mill Gills near 
Askrigg, and Foss Gill in Bishopdale, which, 
however capitally pleasing they might prove in 



NOTES. SIT 

k!iy other pail, appear dimiiiislie/ 1 when put in 
comparison with those already remarked. 

The scenery of rock and hangin:^ shrubs, which 
accompanies the cascade at Ilardrow, is truly 
magniticcnt. in the memuiable; frost of 1739, 
the water formed a surprising column or ici^e, 
which attracted mvMiy per.scns from remote dis- 
tances to see it, measuring iu height 90 fes*, and 
as much in cirumierence, Mr. Maude 

Aysgarth is a village delightfully situated oa 
the river Eure, about four miles east of Askrigg. 
The bridge belongiiig to it was built in 1530, as 
appears from a stone tablet on it, bearing that 
date; yet the extraordinary beauty of the sur- 
rounding scene, the foaming cascade seen beneath 
its arch, and the shrubs and trees with which it 
is shaded and adorned, all join to compensate for 
its want of anticpiity. Besides it must be alloived, 
that considering the time when it was built, and 
the place where situated, it is by no means a 
contemptible performance; being a large segment 
of a circle, rising near 32 feet, and spinning 71, 
and has in general an appearance of lightness, 
that would not discredit the work of a mo Jem 
artist. 

In this parish is situated a very ancient ednce, 
called Nappa, " being noticed " says Mr. Maude, 
*' by Leland and other succeeding historians, 
which, by the termination, favours a conjectur^i of 



il8 NOTES. 

its being of IIo man orijgin. It belongs to William 
Weddell, Esq.; and is situated under a crag, in 
all the gloomy privacy of monastic taste; having 
embrazures upo-n the top, which give it a miH- 
tary air, in thr bow and arrow stile, but must- 
tiave been intended only for ornament, as tlio 
building wanted both strength and situation for 
defence, being small and liable to be commanded 
from an overlooking cliff, even by the most impo- 
tent weapons of attack in the days of its erection. 
However, there is character and plantation 
enough abouU the house, always to command 
the stranger's eye, and lead the traveller to enquire- 
after some accsount of the place." 

" This was the seat of tl:e Metcalfs, a very 
ancient family, of which Camden makes honour- 
able mention. The last heir of this family was 
Thomas Metcalf, Esq. barrister, a most excellent 
magistrate, a man of amiable qualities, and an 
ornament to his country. He lived at Nappa, 
preferring rural tranquillity to the war of wordf^ 
and the bustling scenes of life, dying a bachelor. 
1756, in the 71st year of his age." 

The family of INIetcalf, it is said, was at one 
time the most numerous in England. Sir Chris- 
topher IMetcalf, kut. chief of the family, being 
high-sheriff in the year 1555, was attended by 300 
horsemen, all of his own family and name, and 
all in the same habit, to meet the judges of assize, 
and conduct them to \ ork. 



NOTES. 119 

III the parish of Aysgavth is Askrigg, situate 
«n the banks of the Eure; it is a place of great 
antiquity, and is now fallen to decay. The prin- 
cipal inn was once the mansion of the late John 
Pratt, Esq. well known on the turf. 

Not far from Askrigg is the pleasant village of 
Bainbridge, at the confluence of the Eui'c and the 
little river Baints, from which its name is derived. 
Here was anciently a Roman garrison, of which 
siome remains are still visible; for, upon the hill 
c ailed Burgh, there are the ground work^ of a 
fortification, about five acres in compass; and, 
«i) der it, to the east, are the evident remains of 
the foundations of a number of houses, amongst 
whi ch several monuments of Roman antiquity 
have been found. A fragment with an inscription 
was ti' vig up here some years ago ; it had a winged 
Victory? supporting it; by which inscription, it is 
suppose 'd the 6th cohort of the Nervi had their 
summer camp here. A statue of Aurelius Com- 
modus, \ ?lth an inscription, was also found here, 
V^hich wa s preserved by 31r. Metcalf of Nappa. 

Ed. 



Note XV. 



So lestons Ev te : a hapless exile she, 

Proscrih'd hi t realm, nnleagued with the sea. Page 42. 

The river E< *re, Ure, Jore, or Yore, as it is 
differently name "d, arises from a mountain called 



n^i NOTES. 

Cotter, the extremity of the north-west part of 
Yorkshire, which hill divides that county from 
Westmorland. The river having passed near 
the market-towns of Askrigg, Middleham, Mas- 
ham, Ripon, and Borou^hbridge, terminates at 
the distance of a few miles, and loses its name 
in the Ouse, there little better than a rill, near the 
village of Ousebourn, whose waters pass through 
York, and at length fall into the river Humber. 

So pleasing a river as the Eure, being cancellecB 
by the Ouse in its farther progress, that river 
which dignihes the scenes o-f Wensley-Dale and 
Hackfall, is a circumstance that provokes the 
poet's ire and exclamation. At what period this 
reform took place, we have not been able to deter- 
mine; but there is a strong presumption that the 
river which now washes the walls of York, was 
anciently called Eure or Yore, whence tVie city 
seems to have received its name, the county 
being called in domesday-book Eurevickscire. 
Hence Eure-wick, Yore-wick, or the town upon 
the Eure. Mr, Maude. 



Note XVI. 



Anchored at Wenslei/ I no phantomn court, 
Mypastime authors, and my business sport. Page 48. 

The village of Wensley, is sit'i»ated nearly in 
the centre of Wensleydale, and gives name to 



NOTES. Hi 

the whole vale. It is about three miles west from 
Middleham, and ahout a mile and three-quarters 
south-west from Ley h urn. ■ 

The church at Wensley, about the center of the 
Vale, contains the simiptuous and ancient pew of 
the .Scropes, brouglit from saint 8t. Agatha near 
Richraoiul, at the dissolution of that Ahbey. 

As the insciiptions have long been giving way 
to time and accident, to preserve their remains 
the following extracts were made from a folio 
manuscript in the Herald's Office, compiled by 
Sir William Dugdale, a copy of which is in the 
British Museum. 

Wencelagh 1 8 Octobr. 1622. 

Sculptum super quandam ligneam Clausuram a 

Caenobio Stje. Agatha> juxta Richmond quondam . 

dissoluto, delatam. 

" Here lyeth Henry Scrope, Knight, the 7th of 
that Nayme, and Mabell his Wyffe, Daughter to 
the Lord Dakers, de Grays : Here lyeth Henry 
Scrope, Knight, the third of that Name, and the 
Right Lord Scrope of Bolton, and Elizabeth his 
Wife, Daughter of 

Super Lapidem marmoreum. 
" Hoc teguntur humo Henricus Scrop, Ricar- 
dusq; Domini Henrici De Bolton et Mabell?e 
Q 



m NOTES. 

Uxoris sua? minores' Natu liberi : Quorum alter 
xxvo. (lie decessil raartii, alter xxviijo. July, anno 
Domini M.D.XXV." 

In a burial vault made by the Marquis of Win- 
chester who is already cited, lies alone, his Mar- 
chioness, the family having never resided at the 
mansion, since the reign of James the second, but 
in a transient way. 

Before the memorialist quits his theme and the 
village, may he be permitted to pay his conclusive 
homage and say, with that tender friend who has 
so long ripened by his side, 

O ! let us here, our peaceful vespers keep, 
And lastly in this hallow'd bosom sleep. 

Mr. Maude. 



th6 end. 



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Printed by and for T. Fall, Leyburn ; 

Sold also by T. Bowman, Richmond; and Longman, Hurst, 

Rces, Orme, and Bronn, London. 



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